What Could Have Been
by savinglives44
Summary: Huddy. Cuddy and Wilson go on a date; House is suspicious. Could there be an ulterior motive to their relationship? Or has Wilson found his perfect woman? All House knows is that he must stop them before some majorly disgusting Cuddilson sex occurs.
1. Bent

**Disclaimer: Don't own them. **

**Warning: Language. And slight-Cameron bashing, though I totally didn't intend to. **

**What Could Have Been**

2x03 Humpty Dumpty

_Can you help me? I'm __bent.  
I'm so scared that I'll never  
get put back together._

Lisa Cuddy began packing up her things to head home from her office. It'd been a long day.

Alfredo would be fine, she kept telling herself. The hospital would lose a lot of money, but it wouldn't go to waste.

She just wished that Alfredo had time to fix that damn roof before falling off of it. Now, she'd have to think of him every time she saw it. And, it was already raining.

She stacked her papers neatly on her desk, getting ready to slide them into her briefcase.

The _clunk! _of wood on wood caught her attention. House stood at her doorway.

She wrinkled her forehead. "How long have you been standing there?" Usually, she heard him from down the hall...

"Long enough to catch Chase leaving with a hard-on. I think he likes you." He hobbled forward. "Still feeling guilty?"

"No." She smiled, trying her hardest to seem truthful.

"Even after my incredibly motivating speech?" He placed a hand to his heart, pretending to be shocked. "You realize I actually said you were good at your job?"

"That doesn't help Alfredo," She shook her head, promising herself that she would visit him at least once a month. "Maybe I should make them dinner sometimes," she thought out loud.

"Seriously, Cuddy." House collapsed on her couch. "You don't even have time to cook dinner for yourself."

"I'll make time." She zipped her briefcase up and let it lean against her desk. "What do you want?" He'd already yelled at her, made her feel like crap, and then semi-apologized. What else was there to do?

He patted down on the seat next to him. "Pop a squat."

That was weird. Maybe he actually wanted to talk. She doubted it, but sat down anyway. "What?"

He put an arm around her, and let the fingertips on his other hands graze her thigh. "I was wondering..."

Crap. What was he doing? Surely, he wasn't asking her out. Maybe Cameron hadn't been so off base the other day at Alfredo's house. She swallowed loudly.

"...what kind of underwear you were wearing." He grinned at her.

That smacked the curious expression off her face. "Excuse me?" She took a deep breath, scared and amazed. The thing was, she wasn't wearing any underwear. She hadn't had time to go back to her house and change. She had a spare outfit at work, just in case, but no underwear. And the other pair she'd been wearing before had started to smell.

"You heard me," he said. "I just wanted to check, because I _know_ you have a pair of red panties. I wanted to show Chase and Foreman today, but they weren't in your drawer. Or your laundry. Or your other drawer. So you must have them on, right?"

Oh, that entire story was complete bullshit and he knew it. She played along, not allowing him to trick her. "Oh, no. I'm currently wearing the crotchless white lacy panties. But I think I left my red thong in Wilson's office. He probably still has it, if you really want a look."

"Not funny." He frowned, and his fingers tightened around her shoulder. She'd forgotten that he was still touching her. "You know those are my favorites. How dare you share them with someone else?"

"They're not yours." She hit his chest playfully, unconsciously turning more fully towards him. "They're my panties."

He grumbled for a second, and then removed his arm from her.

She missed it and shifted towards him so their legs could touch. She liked touching him. Despite his injury, he was still strong and masculine to her. Just smelling his scent, so close, she wanted to run her lips over the lengthy stubble on his jaw.

His eyes lit up. "Hey." He angled his body toward her. "Do you want to win a million dollars?"

"Can I give it to the hospital?" Stupid question. He wasn't actually going to give her a million dollars no matter what.

"I don't care." He laughed. "I'll give you a million dollars if you never wear panties again."

She looked down and wondered if he could see through her skirt. "Do you have some kind of x-ray vision, or do you just sense it?" She asked him, honestly.

House shook his head, a bit of a smile giving him away. "I have no idea what you are talking about. How does that pertain to the million dollars?"

"It doesn't." She stood, turning around in front of him. "I don't want it."

"You're tricky," he observed. "How about a million dollars if you take off those crotchless tighty-whitey's right now?"

Cuddy gritted her teeth. He obviously knew she was lying. "Don't want to. I'm on my period. It's not pretty."

"No, you're not." He rolled his eyes. "I'd be able to smell you." With that, he grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her forward. His nose buried into her crotch and he inhaled deeply. "Nope. Nothing but the sweet scent of arousal."

Damn it. Being in a skirt without panties was almost just as revealing of arousal as tight jeans on men. "Well, Chase did just go down on me, so...I'm still pretty hot." She fanned herself.

"He would and you most certainly are." House was still enjoying the view, his fingers occasionally clenching against the skin of her legs. "Chase and Wilson? All in one day? You're a busy girl."

"Jealous?" She hinted.

"Yes." He looked up at her. "Unless you're meeting Cameron later tonight. That's be okay with me."

"Wait a minute." She backed away and his hands dropped from her legs. "Did you say something to her?"

"About you two possibly hooking up?" His mouth dropped open and his eyes danced in excitement. "No, but I will!"

She sat down again. "No, about us. In Michigan. She was way too curious today."

He leaned back, moving his face closer to hers. "Why? What did she say?"

Was he actually worried? Cuddy frowned at the possibility of House and Cameron being more than co-workers. Cameron had seemed a little envious, and Cuddy knew something had happened between the two of them. But Cameron wasn't even close to House's type- which was Stacy. "She just asked why I haven't fired you. And then implied that it was because I had feelings for you."

"Interesting." House stroked his chin.

That was not the reaction she expected. He should be sticking his tongue at her, mocking her "feelings".

She waited and he raised an eyebrow. "Did she say feelings? Or did she say 'screwing'?"

Cuddy hadn't really thought about it at the time, instead focusing on denying it with everything she had in her. "I don't know. Both." When it came to House, Cuddy herself wasn't really sure where to draw the line either.

"I talked to Chase today. He preferred the term, 'nasty'. Although his reasoning was a little bit different." House stared at the corner of her room, thinking.

"What did he say?" She sat up on her knees, clawing at his shoulder. If the hospital was gossiping about her, she wanted to know it.

House's eyes traveled to her fingers on his shirt. "He said that we're too awful to each other _not _to be fucking our brains out."

Something about the way he spoke made her breath hitch, and her grip softened on him. "I don't think we're awful to each other."

"Yeah," House drawled sarcastically. "Don't know where he got that idea. We never yell or make each other's job ten times harder than it should be."

"Sorry." She dropped away from him, crossing her arms bitterly.

"Not that I don't like it." He said, almost instantly, causing her to look back up. "Maybe we should be completely nice to each other, and throw everyone off."

She laughed. "That would be hilarious. I don't think we could do it."

"Yeah." House folded his hands and shook his head.

Cuddy swung her legs back up on the couch, bending them at the knee. "What else did Chase say?"

"Nothing," He paused. "Actually, he was excited at the prospect of you having a shrine dedicated to him in your underwear drawer."

"I don't even want to know." Cuddy wondered how the fellows would even come up with the idea of House and her together. It was even stranger that they asked about it at the same time. Cuddy and House hadn't been extra flirtarious lately, or even extra angry. "Do you think Wilson planted this idea in their heads?"

"Probably." He placed a hand on her knee suggestively. "I suppose they can't identify your special smell as well as I can, after all these years of practice."

"I bet they notice the hard-on's." She smirked.

"No, those are just for Cameron," he blurted out.

She shrugged away from his hand. "So, you two...?" She looked up at him.

"That was just-" He tried to explain.

"It's okay." She hated that every time they got close to having an actual conversation about their relationship, they blew it. Bad timing on both their parts. But it was probably just an idealistic situation that she used to make herself feel better about her lack of social life outside the hospital. "I know you went out on a date before. You just don't talk about her like that."

He was quiet, for once, and it frightened Cuddy. Had she struck a nerve? "I mean, you don't talk to me. We're friends, right?" To be fair, she didn't really mention any of her dates to him, but she was sort of nervous of what he'd do. If he was with Cameron, she would try to act the same. No special treatment.

"I don't put labels on relationships," he said. "I guess you could say that I occasionally seek out your companionship, more often than not, your permission, and never your medical advice." He smiled.

It made her smile too, but he was avoiding the question. "Are you sleeping with her?"

He held his arms out and shrugged. "Why does it matter?"

Oh, God. He was. She needed to leave.

Just as she looked towards her briefcase, he spoke again. "You don't like my answer."

"That wasn't an answer," she snapped. So much for acting the same.

"I'm not sleeping with her." He admitted, before she could cry or yell or hit him again. "So don't get your panties all in a bunch. Oh, wait. You're not wearing any!"

"I knew it!" She pointed at him, relief flooding to her face. It made her so happy that she could just kiss him. She held back, though.

"Damn. I ruined it. I was going to make you show me." He placed his hand between her legs at the edge of her skirt. "You still can, if you want to."

"Sure thing. As soon as you tell me why this Cameron thing has _your _panties all in a bunch." She hoped that he couldn't feel the heat radiating from her, and placed her hand under his, kind of holding it and shielding her privates at the same time.

He pressed against her. "I will. If you let me ask you a question in return, no matter how insanely appropriate. And you have to answer truthfully."

"Okay." She'd already heard all of this inappropriate questions. She'd never really done anything she'd been embarrassed about, sexually. So there would be no blackmail information swap tonight. Not that she'd tell anyone what he said to her. She really wanted to be friends with him, if nothing else.

His long fingers inched up her thigh as he spoke. "Cameron likes me. In a love kind of way. We went on a date. It was nice. No sex," he assured. At the end of every short sentence, he pressed a little further. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes widened at what he was sharing. "I like her, as a person. Wouldn't kick her out of bed, either."

Cuddy's skirt had ridden up so far that her fingers were nearly touching herself, still blocking House's hand. She realized this. "Stop," she said.

House ignored her. "But I'm not going to see her again. Not unless I'm sixty and she's twenty and we're still not married." He smiled at his joke as his fingers swiped against hers, wanting to actually feel her liquid heat, rather than just the steam coming off her body.

"Why not?" Cuddy asked, thinking she had total control of her body.

"I'm not exactly good at that sort of thing, Cuddy." He said, partly to explain, partly to warn Cuddy herself. "I don't want to lose a perfectly good fellow just because I'm an asshole."

She knew that he cared. "So, if you had the choice, you'd want to be with her?" She was an idiot, asking these questions. But she needed to make sure before she let herself feel for him.

He clenched his teeth, and stared at her, hard and lustful. "My hand is up your skirt, you're insanely wet, and I'm halfway hard. I'm not talking about Cameron anymore."

"Okay." She moved her hand, allowing him to cup her, and pulled his face down to hers. She fused their lips together urgently and slid a leg around his hip.

"Careful," he said against her lips.

"Sorry." She moved her feet so her the heel of her shoe wasn't digging into his bad thigh.

He reached into his pocket and swallowed a couple Vicodin.

It gave her time to think properly. In between breaths, she asked, "What was your question?"

"I wanted to know if you recently told Wilson about what happened at Michigan. It's not really relevant anymore..." He bent over to kiss him again.

She sucked on his upper lip and then broke away. "Why not?"

"Because we're having sex in your office."

She pushed back. He really shouldn't have said it out loud. "Oh, crap. I can't do this. Not in my office." All the blinds were shut, but the door was wide open. Though it was late, and no one expected her to be here, anyone could have walked in. "Not professional."

"Fucking tease," he called her, only slightly joking.

"Hey!" She snapped at him. "Why did you want to know if I told Wilson?"

He laced his fingers behind her back, not letting her move away. "Because I did," he whispered into her ear. "I didn't think he'd actually believe me."

This was not a disaster, she reminded herself. "We'll just have to deny everything." She looked down at his shirt. Just the top button was opened, showing the tiniest bit of chest hair. Not really self-conscious anymore, she kissed that little bit of skin, licking it and biting it all she wanted.

"So it's okay for me to fuck Cameron, but not you?" He asked, offended. "You can't be embarrassed," he said out of self-protection. "I'm the hottest stud in the county."

"Yeah, but you're also a jackass who can't follow orders," she defended. "Right now, I can tell everyone I hired you because you're the best doctor I know. But if they knew we were sleeping together, I'd be accused of favoring those who can bring me to multiple orgasms."

"Oh, you know it, babe."

They both made a face.

"Don't ever call me that again," she requested of him.

"Wasn't going to."

She stood up, and stared at him. Though she'd felt his erection before, it was much more blantantly obvious without her on his lap. "I have-"

Cuddy was interrupted by a curious voice outside her door. "Why is the light...?" Stacy walked in. "Oh. Cuddy. House." Her voice sounded suspicious. Her eyes trailed down to House's crotch. "HOUSE. What are you..." She regained control and hid her surprise. "Oh, Cuddy. You poor thing. I told you to file those sexual harassment complaints."

"Stace." House joked. "You know I don't get big and hard for just anyone."

"Yes, you do." She rolled her eyes. "How are the hookers these days? Is that one on fourth and main still your favorite?"

Cuddy crossed her arms, not wanting to get involved in the power battle between Stacy and House. Maybe it was a good thing that Stacy came in and stopped them. Stacy's presence brought her back to reality. She'd almost forgotten about all the hookers.

House saw Cuddy thinking, and was not happy about it. "Cuddy!" He pointed to pants, not stretching so tightly anymore. "Look what she did. Get back over here."

She walked back to him, ignoring the stunned look on Stacy's face.

House grabbed her ass under her skirt, though Stacy couldn't really tell otherwise. His eyes shut and he moaned. "That's better."

"Really, Cuddy?"

Cuddy had to look at her now.

Stacy's stare was awful, condescending. It was weird, for someone that Cuddy called a friend. Cuddy supposed she broke "girl code", fooling around with Stacy's ex, but she reasoned that Stacy was already married, so girl code didn't apply. "You know what he does. He'll make you feel like you've saved him, and then he'll go right back, plunging back down to the depths of despair. Which includes other women."

"Yeah, I know." She ran her fingers through House's hair. "I don't want to leave, though." Like Stacy did, but Cuddy didn't have the courage to say that out loud. Stacy was right, but she was also missing the most important part about love: accepting each other in spite of their faults. Cuddy wasn't going to change House, but she wanted to make him happy.

"Wilson was right." Stacy couldn't take her eyes off the two of them, and it was making Cuddy kind of mad.

House squeezed her leg extra hard. "We knew it was Wilson!" He turned his head and spoke to Cuddy, "He was always trying to fix us up."

"I'll be sure to thank him," Stacy looked down.

House's hand dropped. Cuddy spoke for the both of them, "We don't want to hurt you. But you're married."

"We are going to have a long talk about this," Stacy addressed Cuddy. "And Greg, I know we're never going to talk about this. So I'm just going to say that you're going to hurt her and she doesn't deserve that."

House hesitated. "You know what, Stacy? I'd rather come on Cuddy's couch than in my pants, so could you just leave?"

Stacy always got to him, Cuddy knew. And he had to say something smart-alecky back.

Stacy stepped out the door, but not without a last word. "Don't put your mouth on it, Cuddy. You don't know where that thing's been."

Cuddy almost shouted after her, telling her that they weren't actually going to have sex in her office. But Stacy was already gone and she didn't feel like yelling that into the hallway full of night-shift nurses. She shut the door behind her and sighed.

House was massaging his leg with one hand, his dick with the other. "She just makes me so-"

"Please don't say horny," Cuddy prayed out loud.

House stood up, crossing over to her in a few steps. "Say horny again."

"No," her cheeks reddened.

"Say, 'House, you make me so horny,'" he begged of her, being sure to press into her hip.

Cuddy blushed harder. "No!"

"It's so sexy." She knew he was really aroused, from his darkened eyes and rigid stance. "Everyone was asking about us having sex today. All day long. It was all I thought about."

She found herself thinking about him more than usual too. But... "I can't have sex here."

"Too bad." He wasn't giving up.

"Wait." She pushed on his chest. "I was saying earlier, before we were interrupted, that I have a leaky roof at home. If you could come over and 'check it out' for me, that would be fantastic."

"I don't know..." He teased. "Is the leaky roof making you- I mean, your house- really, really wet?"

"Shut up, House."

* * *

A/N: I said I was going to write it, and I did. RECORD TIME too.

Oh boy, I am really high right now. On Vicodin, ironically. It's prescription. Don't worry. I had my wisdom teeth taken out and I don't feel annnything.

But, weirdly enough, my fingers move really fast. Although I am seeing double right now.

That is why this chapter is a little bit on drugs. I just re-read it and I know some things don't make sense. Especially at the end, where innuendos are coming out of nowhere and everyone is hot for each other. It's like: sexxxxx!

Hopefully next chapter will be different. I should be a little more sober. Maybe not because I feel FANTASTIC. I highly recommend this to everyone.

If I made no spelling mistakes while high, I rock. Review, please. I'll write more 'cause this was hella fun.


	2. Girl Like That Part 1

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**What Could Have Been**

Who's Your Daddy? (2x23)

_You'd think I'd settle down 'cause I'm older  
But I roll with the change is all_

Lisa Cuddy stood in front of House, a blank, dazed smile radiating from her face. "Thank you for the injections."

He nodded, curious, "You're welcome."

She turned around in the middle of a thought, heading to leave the room.

She wasn't getting away that easily. "You came all the way up here just to tell me that?" She'd spent at least five minutes getting the first sentence out. There had to be more.

"No," She shook her head, and stopped. "I also wanted to thank you for what you said."

This was unusual. In fact, House couldn't recall a time where he'd been thanked for saying something. He hoped she hadn't misunderstood him.

She stepped forward towards him and continued, the words now flowing freely out of her mouth. "You know, when you said I should pick someone I like. You were right."

As always. "Did you find one?" And why was she telling him this?

"I'm still looking." She folded her arms over her abdomen and stared dreamily. "I'll find one though. The perfect father for my child."

That wasn't the right answer. Still, it was a better solution than Mozart-kid or Wilson. "There's no such thing as a perfect father." He folded his hands and rested them on his desk. "Any guy that you can pick out of a sperm bank is bound to have something wrong with him."

Her eyelashes fluttered suggestively. "Who said I was looking in a sperm bank?" She stepped forward again, reaching to balance a hand on his desk. "I was actually going out."

"To find sperm?" She shouldn't be bar-hopping to find the future father of her child.

"To find a date."

"Oh?" Geez, this woman was indecisive. Just a day ago, she'd said she didn't want a date. She needed to make up her mind, more than anything else. "You're dating again?"

"I'm screwing again." She deadpanned, with a sly smirk.

Hey! If she was screwing anybody, it should be him. House was pretty sure that he was the last person she'd slept with. It had been a few months, but he wanted her to ask him first, before turning to some random guy in a bar. It wasn't like her to be so aimless and blunt. "Was that an invitation?"

"Do you want to come?" She offered, leaning forward. "I'm driving up to Manhattan for the weekend."

His mouth hung open in surprise. Of course he wanted to spend the weekend with her (preferably sharing a hotel room). He liked it when it was just the two of them. It was easier to...be himself, and she certainly didn't seem to mind. But he'd have to pack and stay up late and be away from his apartment- the only place he felt comfortable. She'd probably be watching his Vicodin intake too. "Uhh..." He grumbled, really not wanting her to travel to the city all by herself, "Okay."

She shook her head, the curls falling in her face. "You don't have to. I'm sure I can find a sperm donor without you."

He stood up and shuffled to get his coat. If they were leaving tonight, he'd have just enough time for a quick cat-nap. "I thought you were looking for a date."

"Yeah, to give me sperm," she said arrogantly.

And what did she plan to do with House when she brought lover-boy home? He was not going to listen to Cuddy have sex with another guy. "You should lead with that."

If House left for the weekend with Cuddy, there were certain implications that he wanted to avoid. He'd say they slept together regardless, but everyone would surely accuse him of having 'feelings' for her or whatever. They walked down the hallway together and he secretly hoped that one of the Ducklings would stop them with a new case. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to crawl back up in his warm bed at home (if Cuddy was there- naked- that would be okay, too). That image- Cuddy, rosy-faced and twisted in his sheets- gave him idea. "You don't have to go all the way to New York for sperm."

"What?" She led him into the elevator.

"Just use my sperm. It's efficient, and a whole lot more pleasurable." He tried to make 'pleasurable' sound extra sexy, but it sort of came out creepy.

She surprised him by actually thinking about it, and then tilting her head away sadly. "Go home, Greg."

He couldn't do that now that he'd propositioned her. "You know you want it." She'd enjoyed herself a few months ago, when they'd slept together. She only wanted a one-night stand, which was fine with him then, but now he was horny and she kept thrusting those damn boobs in his face and...

"You don't want to be my kid's father." She stepped out of the elevator after it beeped and opened. "Are you still upset about Stacy?"

"No!" He most definitely did not want to talk about that. "I just don't think that you should go alone." She'd get drunk and sleep with the first guy who looked at her. And that was not a good way to choose the father of one's child. "You need someone to help you pick. I'll give you an honest opinion."

"Just as long as you promise not to repel the ones that I actually like." She stopped in front of her office. "Wait here."

He watched her as she collected her belongings. She had everything- a great job, a nice house, a satisfactory personality, and the breasts of a goddess. How did someone like her not fall in love and get married? There had to be some optimistic Ken-doll out there dying to sweep her off her feet and give her babies. Although her new method of mate-selection was much better than blindly choosing from a sperm bank, Cuddy had failed to see House's meaning when he recommended "someone she likes". Hopefully she would realize that any guy she randomly met a club would also be unfit to father her child.

She exited her office, purse slung over her shoulder and a coat in hand. "Can I pick you up at noon? That will give us enough time to get a hotel and settle down before going out."

"Tommorrow? I thought we were leaving tonight." He'd just assumed...it was around five o'clock, which wasn't too late.

"It's another night in a hotel." She wrinkled her nose. "We're getting separate rooms, by the way."

"No!" He shouted, the power of his voice making her jump. "We stay in the same room or I'm not going." He crossed his arms and pouted, like a child.

"What if I want to have sex?" She asked, lowering her voice since they were still in the hospital. "And before you ask- you're not watching."

He didn't want to. "If he's a good guy, he'll take you back to his place. If he doesn't have a place, then you know you don't want him to be the father." He leaned in, brushing his lips over her ear. "What are you so worried about, anyway? It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

Cuddy took the opportunity to slip her arm around his back and purr instinctively into his side.

"Watch out." He held his arms out, waiting for her to detach herself. "Don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

Cuddy straightened up and walked out of the hospital, House in tow. "This is why we can't share a room."

"'Cause you can't resist me?" That's exactly what he wanted to hear. "You know I'd love to cuddle up in the privacy of our own hotel room."

"Whatever."

House thought he saw the color rise in her cheeks. "So, I'll be at your house at seven."

"Okay." She climbed into her car and smiled at him before driving off.

* * *

Cuddy was ready and waiting at seven. He showed up a half-hour later.

He'd packed light, because of his motorcycle. He only had a tiny duffel bag compared to her suitcase packed tight.

When they got to the hotel, he'd seen why. She'd dragged it down the hallway, throwing it on the bed closest to the door. He took a little longer, and by the time he got to the doorway of their room, she'd unzipped everything.

Spread out, her luggage easily took up the entire bed.

"Geez, Cuddy! Did you pack your entire wardrobe?" House placed his bag on a nearby chair and took off his jacket.

"I wanted to have everything." She stared at it, her finger held to her lips pensively.

"What's that?" House hobbled over and picked up a especially lacy bra with his finger. His eyes lit up.

She snatched it away. "That's for my sperm donor."

House looked back down to the suitcase. There were at least four other bras of various colors. "I think I should be your sperm donor tonight."

"House..." She backed away, clutching the bra to her chest.

"At least model them for me." On second thought, he didn't know if he could stand that. "I'll pick the best one."

"Not a good idea." She pushed them all back down to the body of the mess of clothes. "You can pick out my pajamas, though."

"Do I have to pick out something? I'd rather see you in the nude." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled at her shirt.

She looked up. "House, what are you doing?"

His hand slid down to her ass. "I told you I'd get cuddly in the privacy of our hotel room."

She took a few deep breaths and rested her head on his chest. "Okay." She placed a hand on his back. "So, what should I wear?"

He let go of her to dig through it again. "Where are the thongs?"

She patted a pocket on the side.

He peeked in at the dizzying array of ribbons and colors. "I see that I have a selection."

She nodded. "I'm not only going to wear a thong, House." She retrieved two silk nightgown from the bottom of the suitcase. They were nice, but entirely too modest. "You can choose- butterflies or flowers?"

He frowned, and shot a thong by its elastic at her. "Green."

She picked it up, and looked at it. "If I'm wearing this..." She reached into the pocket of underwear again, and held up pink panties with bows. "You have to wear this."

House took it from her and stretched it. He might fit, and it would certainly be worth it to see Cuddy nearly naked again. But no...they were women's underwear! He threw it on the bed. "I can't."

She mimicked him. "Then I can't either."

"Please, Cuddy?" He tried to make his eyes water. "I'd rather go nude. Anything but the panties."

"Sorry!" She shrugged and plucked the butterfly nightgown from the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom.

"Damn it." House took off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. He took a deep breath. If he didn't do this now, he was going to regret it for the rest of his life. He removed his boxers and sat on the floor, playing with the panties. His leg ached as he brought it up towards him, bent at the knee. He groaned, only slipping his foot through one of the holes before chucking the panties to another corner.

The sound of running water came from the bathroom, followed by a flush.

House knew he had to do this now. He stood up, very slowly, and walked over to pick the panties up off the floor. As he straightened up, Cuddy came out of the bathroom.

"Whoa." She laughed and covered her mouth. "You were actually going to do it."

House didn't care. He was too busy staring at Cuddy. The butterfly nightgown was in her hand, and she was wearing- he gulped- some sort of teddy that just hugged every curve. "W-where'd you get that?" He scrambled to his feet and handed her the panties.

"Found it." She smiled. "It was attached to this thing." She held up the nightgown.

"That's-" House brought his hand up and brought it down her side, feeling the soft material. He did this repeatedly, his eyes sliding all over her body. "Don't ever take this off."

"Sure." She looked down his body. "You're still naked."

Right. He hastily put on his boxers. "I was going to seduce you, but it looks like you've got that covered."

"Yeah." Cuddy walked over to help him, her fingers grazing his thigh.

That felt good. His head snapped up as he tried to keep his hard-on at bay. She wasn't helping, rubbing against him like that. "Goodnight." He kissed her cheek, since it was right there, and climbed into bed.

"What?" She placed a hand on her hip. "I thought you wanted to have sex."

"I do." And she looked so damn sexy...He didn't deserve her. She should be with someone who would be a good father, and a good husband. "Like you said, I don't want to be the father of your child."

Cuddy seemed hurt for a moment, peeling a hangnail. She sighed, "Okay."

He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her. He couldn't believe he just rejected her, but he needed to do it, to show her that he wasn't what she was looking for.

She started to push the luggage off of her bag.

"Hey." He called to her. "Sleep with me."

"No," she whined sadly. But she stopped.

His hand fell down on the other side of the bed, smacking the mattress. "Get over here."

"You can't just do that, House!" She mindlessly started to push clothing back in. "You can't just have half of me when you want it, how you want it."

He didn't mean to make her feel like that, but he couldn't tell her the truth. "Don't make me come over there."

"You won't have to because I'm not sleeping with you."

Now, she was just shoving clothes around in the suitcase and he could tell she was about to cry. "A minute ago, you couldn't wait to get into my bed."

Not a good choice of words. She looked down at her attire. "I'm going to take this stupid thing off because obviously it makes me look like a fat cow!" She tore off for the bathroom.

"Jesus, Cuddy! That's not what I said!" She never believed what came out of his mouth. He limped over to the bathroom. "You look fucking beautiful, I just-"

Her head peeked out of the door. "Really?"

"Yeah." He scratched his head, glad to see she hadn't removed her clothes yet. "I'm just tired and my leg hurts and-" She was perfect and he was a mess.

"Did you take your pills?" She stepped out of the bathroom, concerned. She touched his scar lightly, and even that sent tremors down his leg.

He nodded and she frowned. "Let's just go to bed."

She took his hand and walked to the bed with him. When she bent over to crawl to the other side, he slapped her ass.

She didn't say anything, but when he was snuggled under the covers, he felt her hand slide around his hip and return the favor. "Mmm." She hummed into his shoulder and he laughed.

He let her caress him for a while before removing her hand. "You're not going to have any energy for tommorrow."

He kissed her and she moved over, giving him some space. The tips of his fingers traced the silk nightie until she fell asleep.

* * *

The next day went rather smoothly. They had a friendly breakfast, went to Central Park and sat in silence. Cuddy insisted that they return to the hotel by six, so she could spend the next three hours getting ready. House spent most of this time watching television. He didn't know exactly what she was doing in the bathroom, but she'd given him the teddy she'd worn to bed to play with. It slid through his fingers, smooth and warm. He buried his face into it and inhaled. It smelled like her.

She stepped out of the bathroom, a towel in her hair and around her body. "Having fun?"

"Yes." His voice was muffled throught the fabric.

"Want the shower?" She pulled the towel from her hair and shook it out.

"Yes," he repeated, standing up quickly. Pain shot through his leg and he buckled, the nightie falling off his face.

"You okay?" In a instant, her hot, wet body was pressed against his.

"Fine." He shuffled to the shower as best as he could.

When he got out, clean and relaxed, she was peering over her clothing selection, wearing nothing but the green panties he'd picked out the night before and a matching bra.

He walked over to his bag and put on a clean pair of boxers.

"No comment?" She raised her eyebrows. "I hope you at least thought of me in the shower."

"How long have you been planning to say that?" He grabbed the one nice shirt that he packed and kissed her on the cheek. "And today...it was mostly Angelina Jolie, but you may have made an appearance."

"Only an appearance?" She rubbed her hand across his abdomen, running her fingers through his chest hair. "The only reason that I bought that teddy was to be the star of the show."

He listened to her breathy words and let his thumb run along the soft skin of her back. He kissed her shoulder, then her collar bone, and took a bite out of the top of her breast.

He pulled away. "Damn."

Her legs bumped against his as she followed him, too close. "What if we forget the whole picking out a sperm donor thing? I'll find one at home." He fell onto the bed, and she came with him, blubbering, "You can wear a condom, if you want."

He held her on his lap, one of his hands wrapped around her knees, the other on her hip. "Not yet. After you find the guy you want and...get fertilized."

She growled at him and leapt off. "Put some clothes on then. And stop teasing me!"

Truthfully, he wasn't that sorry about teasing her. It just meant that she'd be even hotter for him later. He buttoned up his shirt and pulled on a pair of pants. "Hold on, I forgot..." He went back into the bathroom, and came back with her nightie. "Can I keep this?"

She took it from him. "You don't appreciate it enough if you have to think about Angelina Jolie."

He stepped behind her, pressing into her. "You know I only think about you." His hand stroked along her arm until she released it.

"Fine." She stepped away and pointed to an outfit. "Do you think this is okay to wear?"

He looked down. It looked like something she might wear to work- professional jacket, blouse, tight skirt. It showed off her assets, but it wasn't exactly...

"No jacket?" She interrupted his thoughts.

Obviously, his iffy facial expression wasn't what she wanted to see.

"What am I supposed to wear?" She threw the outfit onto another chair so she could see the rest of the clothes she brought.

He should have told her that she looked fine. He wasn't suppose to make her sexy. She was supposed to look like a mother. He really didn't want to pick out a dress for her to get laid in, but it was hard not to enjoy himself. They settled on a purple, slinky number with a black jacket over it. The color made her eyes sultry and House struggled not to kiss off the red lipstick she applied afterward.

She smacked her lips. "Ready?"

She looked like a whore. She really did. But he supposed that was what she was going for. "Sure." He popped a couple of Vicodin in his mouth and hoped for the best.

* * *

A/N: So, obviously there's going to be a part two for this. Ummm. Not even sure where this idea came from.

I sort of dislike this chapter. Next chapter might be better. House gets to interview potential "sperm donors". Sooo...fun.

Ick. House is OOC again. haha. I'm critiquing my own chapter in the author's note. I'd better stop before you never read anything I write again.

Suggestions would be nice, maybe on Jealous!House because he's a little hard to write. Thank you!

Also, lyric credits go to Matchbox 20.


	3. Girl Like That Part 2

**Reviews were wonderful. Thanks so much!!**

**What Could Have Been**

_She gets sad when there's nothin' going on  
She says it makes her feel damn worthless_

House and Cuddy had to park a few streets down at a parking garage, and House was really glad he'd taken a few extra Vicodin. The strain on his leg was painful enough, but coupled with the pounding music and sweat-slicked bodies- he was in hell. He swallowed another pill and wondered how Cuddy had ever found this place.

She tugged him to the bar and ordered for both of them. She seemed to be right at home, legs crossed over the stool. "First guy who buys me a drink," she told him.

House reached into his pocket and slapped a twenty on the bar. "Done. Let's go."

She shook her head. "You're not going to screw me. We already covered that, remember?"

Yes, he remembered disdainfully. He knew it was a good idea at the time, but the visual of her movement in the smooth maroon dress made him regret the decision. He wished they could go back to before, when he felt associated sex with positive feelings. But all of this baby nonsense was messing their relationship up. If she could just get pregnant already- he was looking forward to the extra sexual appetite and gigantic boobs.

She interrupted his fantasy. "What about that one?" Cuddy pointed to a guy, seemingly younger, with tall hair. He was eyeing her too.

"Him?" House reached for the beer that had just been presented to him. "He's an idiot. Find a smart one."

"The smart ones are losers, remember?" She laughed and jumped from her stool.

House noticed that she'd ordered a shot. "You going to drink that?" He asked.

She threw it back, and sauntered, almost tripping over her heels, to the guy with the gelled hair.

House rolled his eyes at the guy's excited smirk. Why didn't Cuddy realize that she could have any guy in the room? Everyone else seemed to notice.

He sipped his beer and decided that he didn't like it. He pushed it aside and asked for a martini. Cuddy would be paying for the rest of the night, so might as well try ever drink they had to offer.

Cuddy was still dancing with the same guy, his hands following her hips as they swayed sexily from side to side. House gulped, and thought he would give anything to be down there, rubbing up against her, instead of the twenty-year-old pervert.

What was he supposed to do now, with her entertaining every other guy in the room? He thought he might pick up a date himself, but he really wasn't in the mood to try. Maybe he'd spend his time doing what he actually came here to do- find Cuddy a sperm donor. However, Cuddy's original argument was proving difficult to overcome. Most of the guys seemed to be concerned with only one thing: getting laid. Typical, though not what he was looking for. Cuddy wouldn't want to spawn with someone who only thought with his penis. She needed intellectual stimulation as well.

He noticed another guy sitting at the bar alone. The guy seemed sad, staring into his drink. House watched as a well-endowed woman tapped him on the shoulder, and he shook his head no.

Oh, something was wrong. House ordered another drink, a cosmopolitan, and brought that and the martini with him as he sat next to the man.

"Are you gay?" He asked, bluntly, sucking down the rest of his martini. He nudged the cosmopolitan to the man.

"No." The guy didn't even look up.

House tasted the cosmo himself and licked his lips. Fruity. "Do you like women?"

"Some." The man lifted the drink and poured it down his throat.

House took it from him and sniffed it. "Scotch. That must burn." He pulled the toothpick from his drink and bit on the cherry. "What about that woman over there?" He pointed to Cuddy.

The man remained still.

"You have a brain tumor." House declared.

"What?!" The man looked up, finally.

"You're alive!" House proclaimed joyfully. "So what do you think about that woman over there? Purple dress?"

"You're crazy." The guy looked at Cuddy, though. "I don't have a brain tumor, do I?"

"Depends on your answer." House watched him to gauge his reaction. He thought this one might be it. He didn't seem stupid; he realized that House was crazy. And he drank scotch. Cuddy would like him.

The man shrugged. "She's pretty, like every other girl here." He thought some more. "She seems happy. Not drunk or high or anything. That's nice. She looks like a slut, though." He turned back in his chair.

"What's your name?" House asked. He was going to need to warm this guy up before he let Cuddy talk to him.

"Do I have a brain tumor?"

"Maybe. You're indifferent. What's your name?"

"And that makes me have a brain tumor? Why don't you go talk to the other ten guys who work at my office..."

"You work at an office?" House wasn't sure about this. He could be really boring, but then again, boring was stable. Maybe he was a CEO. Then again, CEO's didn't sit alone at clubs, depressed.

"My name is Alex. Are you her pimp? 'Cause I'm not into-"

"Good. Neither is she." Now that House could actually see him, the guy wasn't that bad at all. He had some stubble, but House knew for a fact that Cuddy would like that.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you even know this girl?" Alex seemed to liven up a little bit, but he hadn't taken his eyes off Cuddy since House had mentioned her.

It was working. House smiled. "You're perfect. You even have a sense of morality!" House clapped his hands together. "Now, if you answer this correctly, you do not have a brain tumor." He paused, "Will you have sex with that woman tonight?"

"You are her pimp! I'm out of here..." Alex moved to leave.

"I'm not a pimp. Calm down." House took a deep breath, taking his own advice. "Would you like me to tell you a little about her before you make your decision?"

"No." Alex made a motion for another scotch.

"She's a doctor. I mean, she runs a hospital. She's very smart and nice and she saves lives every day." House knew he was exaggerating a bit, but this was no time to be modest. "She's pretty fucking amazing in bed, too."

"Why don't you date her?"

"Do I look like the kind of guy who a girl like that-" He nodded to Cuddy. "-would want to date?" He finished the Cosmopolitan, slightly embarrassed that he'd just opened up to a stranger.

"So you love her? Man, that's-" Alex laughed bitterly. "-that's really sad. You want her to be happy?"

Not with another man, House thought. But Cuddy wasn't looking for another man. She was looking for a sperm donor. House was confident he'd be the only constant man in Cuddy's life for a long time, except for occasionally Wilson. He wasn't worried about her falling in love with Alex. But he knew there was the possibility that she could, and that made him the perfect sperm donor. "Yes." He didn't want to go further into detail. Alex seemed to enjoy it.

"I suppose I could buy 'er a drink or something." Alex pushed his chair out from the bar.

House stopped him. "I'll go get her. You stay right here." He slid out of his chair and onto the floor. There wasn't much friction, so it was sort of slippery. He struggled down the few steps to the dance floor. He quickly reached Cuddy, who was dancing on the outer ring of people. He tapped her on the shoulder.

She smiled warmly at him. "You want to dance?"

House shook his head, and shouted over the music. "I just wanted to tell you that you have a child attached to your neck." He flicked the guy on his temple, and he stepped back.

"Hey!" He didn't take his hands off of Cuddy. "If you want to dance with her, just ask." The guy whispered something to Cuddy, rubbed her hip as some sort of loving gesture, and disappeared into the crowd.

Cuddy put her arms around House's neck. "Hi!" She grinned and started swaying to the music again.

He gripped her waist for balance. Although she smelled like the teeny-bopper, House was relieved to see that he'd only been nuzzling her neck, not branding her. It made him want to suck on her, but he resisted. Alex wouldn't want to play with her if she'd already been "used".

House pulled her away from the crowd. "I have a sperm donor for you."

"You do?" The smile left her face. "Really?"

"Yes. He's suitable." House took her by the hand, and decided that was too couple-y, so he brushed his fingers up to clasp her arm.

"Let's see him," she said so softly that House had to read her lips.

He lead her to the bar. For a second, he didn't see Alex, making him nervous that he'd already left. But then he heard his voice behind them.

"Hi, I'm Alex."

Cuddy shifted away from House and towards Alex. "Oh, hi. I'm Lisa." She turned towards House, "Is this him?"

"Yeah." House took his hand off of her.

Alex placed a hand in his pocket and gestured towards House. "You know, your boyfriend here asked me if I would have sex with you."

Even from the back, House could see Cuddy melting in embarrassment. "That's...highly inappropriate of him. I'm sorry."

Alex was as charming as ever. "Yeah, I thought so too."

Cuddy's face perked up. "Wow. You're honest. That's nice."

House watched them interact. And since when did Cuddy like 'appropriate' men?

Alex glanced at House momentarily. "He also told me I had a brain tumor," He laughed nervously. "And he said you're a doctor too, so could you help me with that?"

House never would have said such a thing if he knew it was going to be Alex's pick-up line. The worst part was that Cuddy seemed to enjoy it.

She laughed and patted Alex on the back. "The good- and bad- news is that if House says you have a brain tumor, there's a fifty percent chance that you actually do." She lead him towards a stool. "Why don't you have a seat and I'll check you out. I mean, help you."

"Oh, come on, Cuddy." House scooted to the seat next to Alex. "That was the worst line ever."

Cuddy shook her head. "Are you going to sit here and watch us?"

House crossed his arms. "I just want to make sure you do it right, and everything goes to plan."

"I think we're doing pretty good," Alex said with a cocky smile.

"Well." House corrected. "You're doing 'well'."

"He won't go away," Cuddy told Alex. "Just ignore him." She addressed House, "So, why do you think he has a brain tumor?"

He almost told her to bend over, but that would make her really pissed off. So, he went the sneaky route. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and threw it on the floor. "Whoops. Will you pick that up for me?"

She rolled her eyes, and for a moment, he was afraid that she was catching on to his ploy. But she picked it up anyway.

Alex averted his eyes from Cuddy's gaping cleavage AND curvy ass.

"See?!" House pointed at him. "He looked away!"

"From what?" Cuddy handed him the napkin.

House tossed it over his shoulder. "Cuddy, your breasts were practically falling out of your dress, which is so short I can see your thong from here. He didn't even sneak a peek!"

"Maybe he has some self-control!" Cuddy yelled.

There was a silence, and Alex sensed it was time for him to speak. "I really just felt uncomfortable. I didn't want you to think that I was looking at you..."

"You are a FREAK," House declared.

"Shut up, House." Cuddy, suddenly self-conscious, pulled down her dress a little. "Um, but seriously? How do you exist?"

Alex shrugged.

"Here's a hint-" House whispered, loud enough for Cuddy to hear, "-when she wears a dress like that...she wants you to look!"

Alex grimaced and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, so he was more at eye-level with Cuddy. "Sorry. I think you're pretty and everything..."

Cuddy blushed and House gritted his teeth. He was supposed to be the only one who made her blush. "She looks great in much less. Actually, she's wearing this green underwear set. Lacy bra, thong. You know, typical. You can see it a little if you look down her dress..."

"Really?" Alex was giving him a stone-cold stare. House didn't think he was very amused, or interested in what House had to say. "Why don't you just sleep with her then, if you already know what she looks like in her underwear?"

"Actually, I know what she looks like naked..."

"Just shut up." Alex interrupted again. "Obviously, you've already had a chance with her and you screwed it up."

Cuddy was twisting around awkwardly in her high heels. She bit her lip, not wanting to say anything.

Alex nodded towards her. "So, can I buy you a drink?"

"No."

Her answer surprised House. She seemed to really like Alex. And the way she was looking at House... her eyes appeared darker and she squinted angrily at him. She took Alex's hand. "I want you to take me home with you. Now."

Alex placed his hand on her lower back and House just wanted to rip her away from him. Damn. How could he let it get this far?

"You're a jerk," she told House, pursing her lips together. "Can you make it back to the hotel okay?"

He nodded, still in shock that she was leaving him. Sure, Alex was a great guy- the perfect father, even. He'd be a great dad. "Aren't you going to ask him how many grandparents he still has living?"

Alex looked confused, but Cuddy replied, "No. I like him." She paused and smiled, "Though I am going to do a full-body scan and measure the size of his pancreas."

House laughed, leaving Alex even more confused.

"Are you guys okay?" He asked.

Cuddy looked at House. "We're fine. I'll see you at the hotel...sometime."

House just wanted to get out of there and throw up. He needed about six more drinks and a handful of Vicodin to make this pain go away.

Reading his mind, she said, "Don't take too much Vicodin. Everything's fine. Nothing will change. I will see you soon."

He hung his head, his last attempt at seeming pathetic enough for her to stay.

"Buy porn," She pleaded with him, desperately trying not to feel guilty about leaving. "I'll even pay for it and watch it with you when I get back."

"Just go, Cuddy." She was dragging this out and now he just wanted her to leave. "Everything's fine, like you said."

She gave him a small smile and let Alex lead her out of the bar area. They stopped by the door, for some reason, and House had to lean all the way back in his chair to see.

She was kissing Alex, like she couldn't wait until they got to his apartment. He had his hands all over her. It made House sick.

So he looked away.

* * *

House actually made it back to the hotel room all in one piece. He didn't order porn, but he did take a few extra Vicodin. Not enough to kill himself, though, because he needed to make sure she got back all right. He waited for forty-five minutes or so, and his head was fuzzy, but the ache in his chest was still there.

He pulled out all the thongs from her suitcase and tried to cuddle up with them.

It wasn't enough.

One by one, he picked articles of clothing out of her suitcase and threw them on the other bed. He nearly emptied out the entire thing before feeling comfortable enough to sleep, surrounded by her clothes. He held onto his favorite nightie, and rubbed his face in it before closing his eyes.

When he woke up again, she still wasn't there. He got up and tripped on her make-up bag, cursing loudly. He searched the bathroom for something that would fill the absence, but all she had was a toothbrush and some shampoo. He went back to bed and laid out, flat on his back. He took off his pants and shirt and stroked himself through his boxers, but he couldn't get it up. All he could think about was Cuddy having sex somewhere else.

He hadn't realized he felt this way about her. When she got back, he would tell her that he didn't want her seeing anyone else.

What really got to him was that Alex knew how House felt, or what House had lead him to believe. How could he have sex with her when he knew that she was loved by someone else? It wasn't fair.

House pouted and rolled onto his stomach. He fell asleep again, thinking about the night and how he should have just danced with Cuddy.

He woke up to smooth legs straddling him. Cuddy was back, kissing him, wearing nothing but her green underwear and matching bra.

"Ohhh...you're back." He ran his hands up her legs and she nodded against his chest. "How'd it go?"

"It was fun." She gave him a hug and kissed his neck.

She smelled like cigars and laundry. "How was he?"

"Best sex I ever had."

He cracked open an eye just to make sure she was joking. She laughed. "So...he was bad?" He asked hopefully.

"He was..." she hesitated, "...gay."

"I knew it!" He snapped his eyes open and sat up quickly. Relief flooded through him like never before. "What the hell was he doing?"

She kept kissing him. "Well, he was confused- struggling with his identity. When I dropped my dress, he blurted it all out. You had him quite scared with all that brain-tumor talk, though."

"He had to be gay, not to want you." Finally, their lips met in a quick peck, and then again, in a longer kiss that drew him in.

She stopped him, hands running over his chest. "How can you say stuff like that and then be a complete asshole, like you were at the bar?"

He didn't know what to say. It was just him, his personality. Now was the time to tell her, that he didn't want her to see anyone else. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

She seemed to understand. "That's okay. But sometimes I think that it's just a game. That you only want me for sex. What about when I don't feel like it? Are you just going to leave?"

Again, he couldn't say anything. He looked down and rubbed her thigh with his thumb.

She tried again, "Can you tell me something so I have a clue what you're thinking?"

He kissed her, long and deep. His tongue stroked into her mouth, meeting with hers and tangling with it. He let her breathe, put kept pulling and sucking her lips between his.

When he stopped, she buried her face into his neck. "Wow." She rubbed her lips all over his skin, still tingling from the kiss. "That's perfect."

"You got it?" He asked, a little breathless.

"I got it," she confirmed.

His hands rose to cup her ass, and she rocked onto him. He wasn't having any trouble getting hard now.

She felt it. "That reminds me..." She massaged his shoulders. "I am under strict orders to fuck you senseless."

"Really?" Not that he would mind...

"Yes. Alex and I discussed it. We both thought it would be a good idea." She smirked.

"Mmm." He moved his hands to hold her breasts for a second, then down her sides to tug at her thong. "What else did you and Alex talk about?"

She looked to the ceiling in thought. "Ummm. We first tried to have sex, and that didn't go so well. Him, being gay and all. And then we talked about our favorite movies. And he mentioned how you were in loooooove with me, like Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan."

"I am not in love with you like Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan."

"Really? I thought that was such a good story." She pretended to be surprised.

"Cuddy." He shook his head. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh. Well..." She kissed him behind his ear, and he pressed into her. "...how do you know what it's like then?"

"I don't know." He couldn't really think of a retort when she was doing that.

She stopped. "He said that he's never seen a man more territorial. And that you were insanely jealous."

"Maybe I was," He quickly moved onto another subject. "So, when's the fucking senseless going to begin?"

"How can you be insanely jealous if you don't even want me?"

He sighed, acting like he was annoyed, and took her hand. He moved her fingers so they closed around his dick. "Can't you feel this?" He asked rhetorically. He wanted her.

She muttered something about not wanting to sleep with her before, but allowed her hand to massage him, slipping under his boxers. He laid back down and enjoyed the feeling, touching her in all of his favorite places.

Before long, he heard her shift what little clothing they still had on aside, and she sunk down on him.

She held one of his hands and rocked, kissing it and whispering, "I love you."

* * *

A/N: I know my author's notes are obnoxiously long, but whatever.

I LOVED writing this chapter. It's so much fun, and not sucky, like the second one. I hope you loved it as much as I did.

I tried not to put smut in it. I did. But it happened because it had to. Seriously. This chapter would not end until they had sex. I just hate it because I have to bump the rating back up to M and I feel like no one reads it. Grrr. It's not even real smut. It's like two lines. Oh well, I'll get over it.

I would tell you what Alex looks like, but I left that up to you. I hope you're all imagining him sexy, though.

It would be amazing if you reviewed, because I have no idea what I'm doing for the next chapter. And I WILL update faster if I know people are still interested and reading and etc. I'm thinking of doing something AU with the Tritter arc- Tritter taking advantage of Cuddy and House's relationship, how she feels about him. Should be fun.


	4. Unwell Part One

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing!!  
****Warning: Um, Tritter is more than a little creepy. I guess I'm just a little fucked up in the head. :-/  
**

**What Could Have Been**

Que Sera Sera (3x06)

_All night, hearing voices tellin' me that I should get some sleep  
because tomorrow might be good for somethin'_

Cuddy knew it was coming- her interview with Tritter. Everyone else close to House had already been through it, Wilson included. He'd called Cuddy right after, preparing her for what was to come.

Wilson told her that he'd lied for House, and she planned to do the same. Whatever it took- she was not backing down. House was too important, too valuable. He wasn't a bad person and he shouldn't be treated like it.

Drumming her nails on the desk, she thought about Tritter and exactly how much he knew. He couldn't possibly know that she'd been sleeping with House. Then again, he needed a surprisingly large amount of sources to get this far.

She wasn't scared when she saw Tritter approach her office, just a bit nervous. She wished that House could be there with her.

He sauntered in arrogantly. "So we finally meet. I'm sure you've heard about me."

"Detective Tritter." She stood and shook his hand, sure that it would be the only pleasantry exchanged.

He sat down in the chair across from her desk. "I know you must be a busy woman, Dr. Cuddy. Can you spare a few minutes?"

She would have said no, but he was already imposing on her, sitting in her chair. "Yes. I assume this is in regards to Dr. House."

"It's funny that you say that..." Tritter took out a small notebook and pen from his pocket. "You call him Dr. House? Not Greg?"

Yes, they'd always done that. Cuddy wasn't sure why it was so important. "It's a sign of respect."

Tritter scribbled in his notebook. "But you're friends?"

"Yes, just friends." She said, a bit too quickly.

He looked up at her, curious. He pulled a tape recorder out of his pocket. "You don't mind if I record this, for evidence?"

She hesitated, "No, I don't mind." She made herself promise that she wouldn't say anything to hurt House.

"So, you're friends with Dr. House?" He restated.

Cuddy voiced her assent again.

"When I spoke to him, he called you 'Cuddy', not Lisa. What kind of friends are you?"

This guy was really ridiculous. Cuddy hadn't really believed Wilson until just now. "What did he say?"

That statement seemed to interest Tritter more than all the others. "That is confidential, Dr. Cuddy. I'm just trying to get all of Dr. House's relationships straight. Dr. Wilson- his best friend, willing to lie for him. Dr. Foreman and Dr. Chase- not so willing. Dr. Cameron- she was interesting, actually seems to care."

"I thought that information was confidential," Cuddy spat, revealing the slight envy she held for Cameron. Tritter didn't seem to notice too much, so she continued, "I know it seems impossible that someone might care for House..."

"Do you? Care for House, I mean." Tritter clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward. He shut off the recorder. "This is off-the-record."

Why did Tritter want to know? He couldn't do anything about it, except wrongfully judge her. "He's my friend." She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Would you prescribe him an unnecessary amount of Vicodin?" Tritter asked, making Cuddy even more angry.

"This isn't about the Vicodin! Which was completely necessary, by the way. He's in pain! And he's an asshole." Tritter had taken this too far. It was time for her, as dean of medicine (and self-appointed caretaker of House), to end this stupid, masochistic dick-measuring contest.

"You're right." Tritter tapped his pen on the desk. "This isn't about the Vicodin. Dr. House is abusive. To everyone. There is no reason that good people- like you and me- should have to deal with his behavior."

Yes, there was a good reason. House was an amazing doctor, and he had moments where the "good" in him really shone through (though he would probably not speak to her for even thinking that). Tritter just didn't spend enough time with House, and he wasn't kind to him either. "He's not abusive," she defended. Tritter wouldn't listen to her anyway, but she added, "And he is trying to help."

"Fuck," Tritter swore, "He's got you all worshipping him. House isn't God."

"I know that," She said, partially reminding herself. Tritter had a point. "I don't treat him like that. When he does something wrong, he is punished. When he does something right, well, I don't yell at him."

"It doesn't work, though," Tritter said quietly, "Someone needs to teach him a lesson."

"Not this way," she pleaded.

Tritter gazed at her for a moment. "I'm willing to drop the charges," he announced. "For something in return."

"What?" Whatever it was, she was sure she (or House) could provide.

"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" Tritter balanced his pen between his pointer finger and the desk. "House still needs to learn something. But I agree with you. A public trial is not the most effective way."

"What do you want?" She whispered, unsure if Tritter was actually hitting on her or not.

"Let me think about it. I'll give you my address. We can meet tonight." He wrote on his notebook, which he'd rested earlier on the desk.

She took it, and stared at it. She needed to get out of this. "I'm sorry," she said after a few seconds. "I have plans."

"With House?" Tritter smiled. "I knew there was something..." His voice trailed off and he stood up. "I'm sure he won't mind, not going to jail and all."

She folded the sheet of paper neatly into fourths. "Okay. But it will be professional. I can't stay long."

Tritter packed up his belongings, still smiling. "I'll be quick."

* * *

Cuddy arrived at his house at a little after six. She went straight after work, telling House that she needed to pick up a few things for dinner. He wouldn't notice if she came home empty-handed.

She sat in her car for a few minutes, taking deep breaths. She thought about House, and how much this would help him. He didn't need the stress of Tritter in his life. He was already in enough pain. Tritter annoyed Wilson too. He was like a little bug that no matter how many times she swatted, it wouldn't go away. Cuddy hoped tonight would change that all.

She wondered what Cameron had said about House. Obviously, Tritter didn't suspect them of being in relationship. Ironically, he was almost as perceptive as House.

She told herself that she would Tritter whatever he wanted. Money, time, flattery. It was all irrelevant, compared to what she would gain.

House was waiting at his apartment. She wanted to be there by eight to tell him the good news, that she'd finally sealed the deal with Tritter. They'd have celebratory sex, thinking of their victory. Maybe if she did this, he'd tell her he loved her. She knew he did, but House had such trouble voicing these things.

Just the thought was enough to propel her out of the car. She locked the door and hugged the purse to her body. Tritter's house was located in a nice suburban neighborhood. It was rather large for one person. She guess that he had a family, a wife. That calmed her fears a bit.

She rang the doorbell, and he answered, "Lisa. I'm glad you came."

She stepped inside, and he was still talking. "I was nervous that you wouldn't come. You must really care for House, don't you?"

Slightly suspicious, she looked around, checking for cameras or other people. She found none. "Yes." He took her coat. "Yes, I do."

"It's wrong that House has so many people who care for him." Tritter lead her through the living room and into the kitchen. She noticed that he was wearing a nice sweater, and that he'd grilled steaks. Not a very good sign for a professional meeting.

There were no signs of a wife or kids. The house didn't seem as big from the inside, but the absense of other people made her worry. She made herself focus on the goal at hand- settling with Tritter. "Doesn't that make you think that you're wrong about him? Maybe he's not that bad."

"It makes me think that he's like a drug." He pulled a chair out for her and sat down on the opposite side of the table. "He's addictive and enticing, and he's tricking all of you into thinking that he's a good thing. There's no excuse, Lisa."

"He saves lives," she retorted.

"Because he likes to solve puzzles. He doesn't care about any of his patients." Tritter cut a piece of his steak and bit down on it.

She didn't touch hers, but held the fork in her hand. "Since when are you an expert-"

"Why?" He asked. "Why do you defend him regardless of the evidence? What does he do?"

"He's a good man," she said, almost adding that she loved him. God, Tritter was infuriating. She just wanted to show him that he was just as stubborn as House.

Tritter shook his head, taking another bite. "I'm only going to say this once, but he doesn't deserve you. You are a smart, nice, pretty woman, and he is the scum under a rock in a landfill."

She threw her fork on her plate. "I did _not _come here to hear you speak about him like that. What do you want, Tritter? Money?"

"No, Lisa, I don't want money." He smiled at her again, and it made her shiver. It was like he was thinking of something absolutely evil.

She brushed her hair back, her hands shaking nervously. "What do you want, then?"

"House-" Tritter began, "-he takes and takes and takes. And he never gives. And he never has anything taken from him. He took my pride, humiliated me."

And now Tritter was just being a bully right back, she thought.

"I need something from him in return," he told her, reaching across the table. "You understand?"

She crossed her arms, nostrils flaring. "What are you going to do? Take another piece of his thigh? Or maybe an arm this time?" For the first time, she realized Tritter was serious. "I swear to God, if you hurt him..."

"Relax." He said, in a creepily soothing tone. "Pain would only cause House's condition to worsen." He paused, "I spoke to Dr. Wilson this afternoon. His second testimony made me even more confident of what exactly is going on." She seemed confused, so he clarified. "Between you and House."

"Wilson said something?" How could he? He didn't even know, unless House told him. This wasn't going anywhere that Cuddy wanted to be at all. She kept thinking of how House wouldn't have to go on trial, and that calmed her a little.

"Wilson was helpful." Tritter stood, only half done with his steak. He motioned towards the doorway. "Will you accompany me to the living room?"

She stood, wanting to cry, but Tritter placed his hand on her arm and she forced herself to pull it together.

They faced each other, uncomfortably. She kept her arms crossed, but his hands grabbed her near her shoulders. "Look at me."

She complied, so full of anger and hurt that she was about to explode. She felt the tears come to her eyes and she just wanted to run and scream and find House to tell him everything.

"I want you to pretend I am House for two hours." He moved his face closer to hers. "That's all I ask. Just two hours that you could have spent with him. That is all I want from him."

"From me," she corrected, not sure that she could go through with this. Was she cheating on House? They'd never set an exclusive rule, but she hoped he wasn't seeing anyone else.

"If you care enough," Tritter shrugged, knowing just how to get to her. "What do you and House usually do together when you're alone?"

They had sex, but she wasn't going to do that. "I'm not sleeping with you." She wasn't a slut, though she sometimes dressed like it. That reminded her to look down and make sure her arms were covering her breasts, so he wasn't sneaking a peek.

"I didn't ask you to," Tritter laughed menacingly. "What else do you do?"

"We talk." Cuddy really wished that he would take his hands off of her. They were starting to get sweaty. She squirmed.

He moved his hands to her elbows, only slightly better, but still enough contact to make her heart jump. And not in a good way. "Does he tell you how beautiful you are?" They were standing so close that he eyes could only move over her chest and then up. He stared at her face for a long time. "You have lovely eyes."

"No, he never says that," she said fiercely. "He tells me how hot my ass is, and how much he loves my breasts." She let the 's' in breasts sizzle on her tongue for extra emphasis.

"You like that?" Tritter ran his hands over her collar bone. "We can talk about your breasts if you want to."

That wasn't her point. "Oh. He would be so..." She stopped herself, knowing that's exactly what Tritter wanted to hear.

He caught on. "House would be so angry? Good. I hope you tell him everything." He kissed her, hard, on the mouth and stepped back.

She stumbled away, rubbing her lips to rid herself of him. "I will. This is illegal."

Tritter laughed again, and now it was annoying her more than anything. "Why don't you think it through? He'll report me, and no one will believe him. If they do, have no fear...I have plenty of friends in the police department."

He was just trying to intimidate her, but everything he said seemed so true. "If you touch me, he'll kill you." She wanted to scare him.

It didn't work. "He doesn't like, or care about you that much. It's House." Tritter brushed it away, like he really knew House.

Cuddy clenched her fists at her sides. "If he doesn't care that much, he won't report you. It won't even bother him."

"No, it won't bother him _what _we were doing." Tritter moved back to her. "It will bother him that I took two hours of time away from him that he could have been fucking you."

Cuddy put her hands over her eyes. He was wrong, he was wrong, she kept telling herself. "Then why don't we just sit and watch Disney movies? If it doesn't matter."

"Because I deserve it. I help people every day. I'm nice to them. I deserve two hours of the loving that House gets every day of his meaningless, worthless life." Tritter was turning red, and she didn't want to anger him further.

She put a hand on her hip. "So, what am I supposed to do? Just stand here and look pretty so you can get your rocks off?" It was degrading and she wouldn't stand for it.

Tritter's demeanor changed, suddenly calm, and he rubbed her shoulder. "I want you to pleasure me the way that you pleasure House. And then I want you to stay until eight o'clock. Then you can go home to House."

Cuddy shoved him away. "I'm not having sex with you!" Oh God, where did she leave her purse? There was probably some Mace in it, if she needed it. For some reason, though, she got the feeling that he wasn't going to force her.

"Aren't you listening? I said you wouldn't have to." He sat down on the couch, bringing her with him and holding her hands. "What do you do when House is horny and you don't want to have sex?"

That never happened. "I don't know."

"Lisa, do I have to make it any clearer for you?"

"You want me to get you off." She stated, hoping he would feel every syllable of disgust in her tone. "I can't do that. But I'll call- and pay for- a whore."

He yanked on her arms, not too rough, but enough to pull her to her knees. "And would this whore also be screwing Gregory House?"

With the way House talked sometimes, Cuddy actually couldn't be sure. She held back a snicker, but Tritter still noticed. "Please, Tritter? Just let me pay you."

"I like how you call me Tritter." He patted her cheek. "It'll take fifteen minutes- twenty at the most. Isn't this worth it to you? One time."

The bulge in his pants was staring at her. She closed her eyes and reached out. She barely grazed him, and he jolted forward.

Tritter must have been a lonely man. It was sad. But as he said, there's no excuse to be an asshole. She looked at him, eyes shining. "You are so much worse than House. He would never do this to someone."

"He did it to me." Tritter stared at her with as much animosity as she held for him. "I stood there with a thermometer stuck up my ass. And it was for more than twenty minutes."

She looked to the ceiling and thought of House. He needed her to do this. She closed her eyes again. "You're healthy?" She asked, moving to unbutton his pants.

"Of course," Tritter said, and she trusted him. He wasn't looking to hurt her specifically. He wanted to hurt House.

He helped her with his underwear. "Good." Tritter sighed, sinking down into the couch. He relaxed his legs and she rose on her knees between them. She tried to concentrate on everything else. How the carpet burned into her skin, the color of the couch (the ugliest shade of orange she'd ever seen), the painting of a little girl playing in the sand that was on the opposite wall.

Everything except Tritter moaning and sighing. He was nice, as nice as one can be in that situation. He didn't thrust cruelly into her mouth, didn't demand that she take him faster or harder.

It took her less than ten minutes. When he finished, she realized she was crying. Hot tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes.

He made her cuddle with him for the next hour. Her head rested near his on the couch and he brought her arm across his chest.

She didn't move at all. She didn't think at all until eight o'clock, when he told her to go home.

As she left, Cuddy made sure that he would keep his word. "You bury this case, and I don't ever want to see you again."

Tritter nodded and shut the door.

* * *

House was at his apartment, as promised, waiting for her in bed. "Where have you been?"

"Ran into Tritter," she said, heading straight for his kitchen. She opened up one of his cupboards of alcohol, and grabbed the nearest bottle. She pulled off the cork and drank it.

Ick. Rum.

She put it away, and went to his refrigerator. He usually kept a couple bottles of wine. She picked the only one that wasn't opened yet. She heard House moving in the bedroom as she uncorked it. When he made his way to the kitchen, she'd had several swallows.

The taste of Tritter was still in her mouth. She wanted to just take a toothpick or something and scrape it away. The wine helped a little.

"Wonderful," House remarked sarcastically. "Isn't he just a joyful delight?"

She didn't say anything, but drank some more wine.

He took the bottle away from her, and had a sip himself. "What did he say?"

"He knows about us. Wilson told him." She wanted to bury herself in him, but she couldn't, not after what had just happened.

"I didn't tell Wilson. Did you tell Wilson?" He laughed and kissed her. "Whatever. Tritter can't do anything. He's a coward."

"Yeah," Cuddy scratched her head, glad that House couldn't tell any difference with her attitude. "I actually got him to drop the case."

"What? Hold on!" House took a long swig of wine and lifted her into his arms.

"I'm persuasive," she said, decidedly. That was her story.

"You betcha." He kissed her again. "Let's celebrate." He limped towards the bedroom and she followed him, bottle of wine in hand.

They made out for a while before House started to get frisky, running his hand under her skirt and into her shirt. She took it, and held it to her chest. "You know? I don't really feel well. Is it okay if we just go to bed?" They'd never done that before.

"Are you serious?" She expected that reaction. He pulled away. "Why are you here, then?"

Cuddy's heart sunk as she realized exactly what she meant to him. She tried to keep a straight, calm face, ignoring the little voice in her head telling her that House didn't care for her. "I wanted to tell you about Tritter."

"Oh, right," He remembered. It seemed acceptable to him that she only wanted to be at his apartment to share the good news, instead of just to be with him. He was pushing her away, but Cuddy refused to be another Stacy. She wasn't giving up on him.

Cuddy took a long swig of wine and kissed him on the lips, hoping that would soothe over the not-having-sex suggestion.

"What's with the alcoholism?" He asked, interested, but not trying to stop her.

"I'm celebrating." She put on her cheesiest smile, knowing that he could see right through it. After receiving a puzzled look, she frowned. "I just had a bad day. Don't worry, I'll buy you a new bottle."

"Oh," House stiffened and patted her on the leg awkwardly. "You shouldn't drive home. Sleep it off here." He hoisted himself out of bed and used his cane to move into his living room.

Cuddy made herself comfortable in bed. She thought he would be right back, but then she heard the unmistakable tone of a piano coming from the other room. As much as she enjoyed House's music, she wanted him in bed with her, being a comforting boyfriend. It was unrealistic to expect him to cuddle with her, but he could at least sleep in the same bed. She deserved a little emotion after what she'd done for him.

Cuddy tried to sleep by herself, but Tritter kept popping back into her head. She ached for House. But she would risk exposing more of her feelings to a guy who would never reciprocate.

She tugged on a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt and padded through the living room. She plopped down on a chair near the piano, shutting her eyes.

"What are you doing?" He barely glanced at her and continued to play.

"Listening." She rested her head in her hand, her elbow propped up on the armrest.

"Do you want something?" He glanced up at her again and then back down, concentrating on his fingers.

She sighed and stood up. "Yes." She stepped behind him, dragging the tips of her fingers over his shoulder. "I want you to say something to make me feel better."

House reached by the piano and took a piece of old, worn sheet music, putting it in front of him. "In that case, you want Wilson." He began to play it- an old, classical melody.

"No," she argued. "I want you." He was the one she'd been sleeping with, the one she'd fallen in love with. He should make the effort.

He was silent, except for his fingers.

"Say something." Her fingers dug harder into his skin, not hurting him yet. "Tell me how you feel about me. Tell me that we're not just fucking."

House stopped playing. "You know how I feel."

"I don't! Because you never say!" She paced around the room hurriedly. "You never tell me. I'd be an idiot to stay here without a tiny scrap of evidence that you have feelings for me. How do I know that you're even capable of feelings? How do I know that you're not the cold-hearted and inhumane man that everyone is trying to convince me you are?"

House's right hand trickled out a chromatic scale. "By everyone- you mean Tritter?" He shook his head. "If he is the reason that I'm not having sex tonight..."

Cuddy stamped her foot. "He told me you would say that!" She collapsed on to his couch. "You- you just hurt me, House."

"If you leave, Tritter wins..." House warned as he threw the classical sheet of music on the floor. He began to hammer out a deep, dark song in a minor key.

She looked out the rain-streaked window. Perfect. Tritter had already won. She couldn't stay with House if he'd put beating Tritter over her feelings like that. "What are you so scared of?" She asked, covering her eyes. "Can't you just say anything compassionate? It's ridiculous to think that we'd be the kind of couple who could talk about our feelings for an hour." She paused, pushing the tears back with her hand. "But it's also ridiculous for me to stay here when I have no fucking clue about anything. We're not like that, House. We're something different."

He didn't say anything.

She screeched incomprehensibly, clashing with the beautiful music, and went back to his bedroom, tearing off his clothes and putting hers back on.

She was leaving. She would walk if she had to.

House was still playing when she stormed into the living room.

"Cuddy?" He played more quietly. "Where are you going?"

"Home," she answered, sickly sweet.

"You can't drive." He wouldn't even look at her. "Go back to bed."

"I'm not tired." She insisted, though she was exhausted. "I'm gone. Not that you care..." She wanted to yell and scream that he'd lost her and she wanted him to be sad about it.

House stopped playing, his fingers hovering over the keys. "Wait." He moved his hands almost two octaves above where he'd been playing before. Another song rang out, full of attitude and rhythm. It sounded familiar, but she only fully recognized it when he hit the chorus.

"You Can't Always Get What You Want"

Cuddy smiled, trailing her fingers down the door frame.

House was being thoughtful.

She took her shoes off and unbuttoned her blouse, but left it on.

House didn't need to look at the keys, but he did anyway, not wanting to look at her, in case she left. In case he wasn't enough. He wasn't smiling, wasn't laughing. Just concentrating.

She tiptoed to the side until she was directly behind him. He could only see her in his peripheral vision.

She began by running her fingers through his hair then down his neck and over his bare chest. She hugged him from behind and pressed her breasts into his back, enjoying how warm he felt.

He seemed to be enjoying it too. "That's my favorite kind of hug."

She kissed his upper back, tasting his skin.

"Guess I found the right song," he added. She kept kissing him as he played.

He shouldn't have gotten off the hook that easily, but he was trying and that's all Cuddy asked. She wondered if he would ever feel comfortable talking to her.

That didn't matter right now. At least House had proved Tritter wrong.

He finished the song and turned around. Her breasts were right in his face and he reached up and squeezed one of them. "I've missed you."

Now, he was smiling. She let him kiss and lick at her cleavage for a while before the bent-over position she was in started to strain her neck. She pulled up and he followed, shaky with his thigh.

He spun her around and pressed her into the arm of the couch. "Bend over."

Cuddy froze, holding his arm tightly around her. He was going to want to let go. "I'm sorry. I still don't want to have sex." She turned around to face him, sorry that he was already impressively hard. But she absolutely could not make love to House right after blowing Tritter. They needed to have a night without sex anyway.

"You're hot for me," he stated, arm still around her waist.

"Yeah." She laughed. "I just need some time."

"Like a few minutes?"

She rolled her eyes. He was relentless.

"Damn women." House pressed into her hard, so he was forced in between her legs. "What if I make you feel a little better?"

Oh, now he was offering. "All right." She pushed back and sat on the couch. "Hit me with your best shot."

He walked the few short steps to the kitchen and came back with a plastic bag. He threw it to her. "I bought you a new toy."

She peeked inside. It was a pregnancy test. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope." He leaned against the table. "I'd appreciate it if you went to the bathroom to play with it."

She raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm pregnant?"

"Just take it."

Cuddy took it out of the bag and tossed it between her hands. "If I'm pregnant, it's yours." He didn't say anything, just looked at her. "Are you okay with that?"

"What am I going to do, kill it?" They both laughed, and then realized that it wasn't funny. House took the bottle of wine that Cuddy had brought from the bedroom. He sipped it from the bottle. "I have positive feelings that you aren't sleeping with anyone else, so..." He toasted to her and drank again. "Cheers."

"Okay." Cuddy stood up and nearly ran to the bathroom. She peed on the stick, througougly coating it, thanks to the wine she'd had earlier. She placed it on a tissue and waited in the bathroom.

A thump came at the door. She heard House's voice. "How long does it take you to pee? I didn't think we were at the stage in our relationship where we felt comfortable going number two."

She cracked the door open. "You want to wait with me?"

House wasn't there. He was stretched out on the couch, throwing decorative apples at the door. "Bring it out here so I can see. Just don't touch me with it."

She brought it out and laid it on his coffee table.

"Sit here," he told her.

She lowered herself slowly to the couch, sitting so close to the edge that she almost fell off.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, so she could sit comfortably. "I'm in pain, not dying."

She leaned over and stroked his cheek. "Want some Vicodin?"

"Yeah. I'll wait though." He drank from the bottle again, and then cuddled it in his arm.

"I can't believe I drank all that wine." She pressed a hand to her head. "Why didn't you stop me, if you thought I was pregnant?"

"If you were drinking that much, there must have been a reason. I knew it wouldn't hurt you anyway."

She resisted the urge to hug him closer. "God, if you're wrong, I am going to be so mad. I might kill you."

"I'm not an OB," he disclaimed.

"I know, but you're really smart and you know these things." Her hand trailed down to her abdomen, trying to feel if he was right or not.

"You can't feel it." He told her.

"I know!" She pressed harder anyway.

He took her hand away. "Stop it." He didn't let go, and she loved him for it.

"What are you going to be like, if it's positive?"

"Alive, hopefully." He smiled. "The same. Emotionally distant."

"Like always," she echoed. "It will be difficult."

"I could use a challenge. It's getting pretty easy."

She swung her legs around so she could face him. "What about me?"

"That's different." He drew her forward, pulling on her hand. "I choose not to be emotionally distant with you."

"But you are." Just because he didn't treat her like crap sometimes didn't mean that he'd opened up to her.

He paused, and thought. "So, you know that piece that I played earlier? The soft one?" He hummed a few bars to jog her memory.

The classical sheet music. She nodded. "Looked like you played that one a lot."

"It was my mother's. I thought you might like it." He looked at the piano.

"I didn't really get to hear it. I was too busy being pissed off." She didn't realize that he'd actually thought of her.

"You should've listened. The next one? I wrote it."

"Are you a fan of the bass clef?" She joked.

"Just for that one. It doesn't get the melody a lot." His thumb absentmindedly tapped against the back of her hand, and then rubbed it. "I thought you might like that one too. Guess not."

"Just because I was mad doesn't mean I didn't like them. I thought you were ignoring me," she defended, suddenly feeling like crap. "I love hearing you play, House. You have no idea."

"I guess it take the Rolling Stones to make you smile."

She fell over him, blubbering in guilt. "I'm sorry. I'm never going to let Tritter..."

"Cuddy." He took her hands. "It's blue."

"What?"

"The stick. Is. Blue." He wasn't smiling or frowning, but there was a certain twinkle to his eyes.

She picked it up. "Oh my God. I'm pregnant. House, I have a baby in me!"

"You have a fetus..."

She didn't hear him; she was too enthralled with the life growing in her. "I knew we could do it. You. And your amazing sperm!" She kissed him, full of joy and excitement.

"They are rather skilled," He tossed his head and popped some Vicodin. "Let's have sex now!"

"No." She shook her head, still grinning. "We have to go to bed now. Ask me again in the morning."

He shook his finger at her. "I knocked you up. I deserve some good lovin'."

"Tomorrow." She didn't care how much he insisted. Her life was perfect now and he fit into it. "Come to bed, House."

"Say it with the bedroom eyes."

She lowered her voice, leaned against the door, and gave him her sexiest stare, "Come to bed, House."

He got up, taking the weight off his bad leg. "I guess that'll just have to get me through the night."

* * *

A/N: I kind of love this chapter. It's sooo long. I wanted to do the last section in House's POV, but it didn't make sense.

Tritter is a jerk and a pervert. It gets worse. This isn't going to be a Cuddy-gets-raped fic, because I have issues with House in those kinds of stories, but yeah, he's going to do some bad stuff.

I have school tomorrow, which sucks times a million. I will be updating twice as slow now that I'm back. (You know I'm really sorry. Of course I'd rather be writing.) I'll try my hardest to type fast!!

I actually wrote this before I took my narcotics, so it should be good, coherence-wise. Right now, I'm a little loopy.

This little arc has three parts. It escalates pretty quickly, I think.

I like it. Let me know if you do too!! It will help with the dread that I have to experience tomorrow.


	5. Unwell Part Two

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! This is another long one. :)**

**What Could Have Been**

Finding Judas (3x09)

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be.

The baby provided a nice distraction throughout Cuddy's days. She couldn't stop smiling, even when yelling at House.

She rarely thought about Tritter again. Not until two weeks after their first encounter, when he walked through the door of her office. At first she thought it was a hallucination. He'd told her that he was finished, that she'd never have to see him again.

He was real, though, standing in front of her. "Dr. Cuddy."

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy hissed. House could walk in any minute and see him. She realized that it probably would be better, if House knew what she'd gone through. But she'd put it all behind her.

"I overlooked something, before." He placed the folder on her desk. "House is not just guilty of drug abuse."

If House had killed someone, there was nothing she could do to cover up for it. Reluctantly, she opened the folder. It contained a list of at least a dozen descriptions and corresponding names and dates. It didn't make sense until she lifted the page and saw the photos. House. With a different woman. He was smiling and she had way too much eye makeup on. "Hookers?"

Tritter nodded.

She laughed. "This is absurd. You can't possibly expect to arrest him for something he did years ago." She threw the pictures on the desk, shaking her head. "He doesn't do this anymore."

It was a particular part of House's life that Cuddy chose not to be involved with. She didn't want to know how many women he'd been with and trusted that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. He always joked about it, and she never took him seriously. It was much harder to ignore it now, with Tritter's evidence staring up at her. Still..."It's not enough. You can't convict him with this."

Tritter was no less than prepared for this. "I have testimony from a particular woman looking to get out of a trial of her own. And you know it won't stop. There will be more prostitutes, more hookers. He's addicted."

"You can't just go around claiming that House is addicted to everything!" God, she did not need this right now. She ran her hands through her hair in an effort to remain calm. "You went looking for this. You can't use the drugs now, so you needed to come up with something better. When are you going to stop? House is never going to be a saint!"

"So he doesn't have to obey the law, because he's smart?" Tritter clenched his fists.

She couldn't look at him. Her hand fell over her abdomen, protecting herself and her baby from...whatever he was going to do. Whatever she wasn't going to let him do. "Where did you get these names?"

"That's confidential."

"Nothing is confidential anymore." She slammed her fist on the table. "You can't just say that when you feel like it. You broke every oath you took as a law enforcement officer when you made me..."

"I didn't make you do anything. You chose to protect House. You chose-"

"I had no choice!" She exclaimed, her voice wavering. She wasn't sure. Everything was so messed up that she didn't know where her free will had gone. Did she choose to give into Tritter? She needed to talk to someone, to ask them, because it was so confusing in her head.

There was one thing she was sure of- "The whore. She's lying." She pointed to the most recent day, about a week ago. "I was with him."

He appeared puzzled, swiveling the paper towards him to look. "You sure?" Tritter raised an eyebrow, pretending to take her seriously. "You know for a fact? This day? At this time? You were with him?"

He was bombarding her and it was giving her a headache. "No, but..." Her face flushed and she felt nausea rise up in her throat. Damn morning sickness. It kind of made her happy for a moment to think about her baby.

"Are you sick?" Tritter looked positively disgusted.

She pulled out the trashcan from under her desk and hovered over it for a minute, just in case. "No. I'm fine. It'll pass in a second." She was right, and sat up promptly, pretending like nothing had happened. "She's not a whore, then." House wouldn't use a hooker while sleeping with Cuddy. They had sex all the time; he should be satisfied.

Cuddy felt a growing pain in her abdomen and ignored it, attributing it to more nausea.

"She is."

Realizing exactly what he wanted, she hunched over and dropped her mouth open. "You can't..." She looked at him and he seemed sympathetic. "You can't expect me to do that again."

"I don't. I'd like you to, though." Tritter took the folder away from her. "I want two hours for every whore that Gregory House has screwed."

Two hours of her, she assumed. Well, it wasn't going to happen. "No. The first time you said you would be gone. And you're still here. Obviously, I can't stop you. There's no end."

He placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward. "Why don't you just ask House to stop committing crimes?"

"You're such a hypocrite." Cuddy pressed an arm into her still-cramping abdomen and she tensed her legs together. "Get away from me."

"There are nine names. I'll throw away three. Six times two- twelve hours. Every day this week- after work, you come to my house. Two hours and you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'll never speak to House again."

Cuddy didn't know if it was the psychological stress that she'd been under lately, or if it was actually pain, but it felt like she was being beaten to death. Her mind just needed to quit; she wanted to disappear.

If Tritter left, that would be fine too. "Just leave." She groaned as another cramp clenched and tensed her entire body. Her hand fell down on the intercom, "Julie? Will you page Dr. House?"

"What's going on?" Tritter shifted away from her, apprehensive at the sight of her in pain. "Is something wrong?"

"Get out of my office," She growled, glaring at him.

"House doesn't scare me." Despite his words, Tritter's voice seemed less controlling, as she'd always heard it before.

"If you leave now, I'll be at your house at six." House and Tritter could not see each other. Cuddy needed to keep them separate. She wouldn't have paged House if she knew that Tritter wouldn't leave. It was her gut-instinct, though. She was in pain and worried about the baby. No one would take care of her like House.

"You didn't tell him?" Tritter laughed, returning to his cynical, degrading stare. "I think I'll stick around for this."

"I'm not going to tell him. He'll kill you." She didn't want House to get in any more trouble than he was already in. It was easier to take Tritter's punishment for him, burying it in the back of her mind. She must have been on top of her acting game because House didn't notice anything. He always noticed.

"You sure about that?" He took a long, arrogant pause. "I think I can take the cripple."

"Shut up!" She hated it when Tritter spoke about House like that. "Get out of here."

His hand brushed over her cheek. "See you tonight."

He left and Cuddy felt relief wash over her. She prayed that House wouldn't run into Tritter in the hall. Still, she had a feeling Tritter wouldn't say anything. He was enjoying her too much. She was much easier to exert control over.

Nausea hit her again. Maybe it was just morning sickness. She never thought it would be this bad. Hugging the trashcan to her stomach, she let the curve of the plastic dig into her throat.

She hoped House would move a little faster than normal. She was trying to stay positive, but it was her innate nature to worry. "House," she whispered, feeling tears come to her eyes. She wasn't going to ask him about the whores. She didn't believe Tritter anyway.

House hobbled in ten minutes later, fast for him. "We did the..." He stopped and saw her crying. "What's up?"

"House, I don't feel good," She blubbered, scared out of her mind. "I think something's wrong."

He took a couple of quick steps to get to her desk, and then walked slowly around it. She turned in her chair to face him, and he took the trash can from her. "It's normal to have a couple of cramps."

She pulled it back towards her. "It really hurts. I'm going to throw up."

"It's called morning sickness, Cuddy," he replied, harsher than she expected. "Have you thrown up yet?"

She shook her head.

He took the trashcan away again, and set it on the floor. "Bathroom." He bobbed his head in the direction of the private bathroom she had in her office.

She stood up, felt light-headed and sat right back down. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." He pulled her up, and deposited her on the toilet. "I'm going to call your OB."

"Just stay for a few minutes. If it's nothing, we won't have to call." She dragged him down to sit on the floor in front of her. She sat next to him, legs curled under her and stared at the toilet.

It wasn't comfortable for him on the floor, so he figeted until she rose up on her knees. "It's not going away."

"Are you spotting?

"Haven't checked." She bit her lip, not wanting to know. He helped her pull her panties down.

She fell into him at the sight of a few droplets of blood.

"It could be nothing," he told her. He shifted so his legs were spread and it was easier for her to bury herself in him.

She still kept her fingers pressed into her abdomen, kneading the skin, trying to pull her baby back in. "What can I do? Tell me what I can do to keep it in." She crossed her legs, twisting them together several times.

"If it's a miscarriage, it's already dead." He rubbed his eyes. "But it's only a little bleeding. You're probably fine."

"Since when are you so reassuring? Just tell me my baby's dead. Tell me I'm the worst mother in the world." Her other hand fingered his shirt, the fabric and smell of him comforting her a little.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then decided against it.

She whimpered whenever a cramp hit particularly hard. His fingers danced over the skin of her back, first lightly, as if on accident, but then more decidedly as her whimpers increased in frequency and volume.

"House," she gasped several times. He turned his face, rubbing his lips on her forehead each time, letting her know he was still there.

After a while, she felt a sticky, warm liquid between her legs, making her thighs slide against each other. A sense of dread filled her, though, now she was mostly numb. "No." Her hand left her abdomen to reach under her skirt. When she pulled it out, she saw it was covered in blood.

"It's gone."

* * *

Half an hour later, Cuddy was lying on the couch, her head propped up against House's lap. Wilson had brought her a couple juice boxes and she was sucking on the straw of one.

She was also high off the morphine that House had administered.

Wilson didn't approve, "The narcotics weren't necessary."

House rolled his eyes. Wilson didn't understand how painful it was to watch her, reeling on the bathroom floor. Knowing her, knowing it was his baby made it incredibly difficult to distance himself. The morphine would help take some of the physical pain away, which was only reminding her of her dead baby. Embryo. Whatever. Cuddy thought of it as a baby. She probably had the thing named and everything. She'd feel guilty about it, though it wasn't her fault. She wouldn't be the same for a while.

"Tylenol!" Wilson suggested, even though it was too late. His eyes fell over Cuddy. "How are you feeling, Lisa?"

"Good." Her eyes were as cold as slate, unmoving and lifeless. She slurped the juice and House got another one ready for her. He threw the empty box towards the trashcan and missed.

"I can take her home, if you want," Wilson offered. "She can't stay here."

"Why not?" House could keep an eye on her while he worked on his case.

Wilson sight, annoyed. "She's buzzed!"

"I'll take her." He couldn't leave her, even if it meant risking their undercover relationship. He didn't really mind if everyone knew he was screwing her, but Cuddy seemed to care. And the secret thing worked for them.

He checked to see if Wilson was looking and brushed his calloused fingers over her forehead. Cuddy smiled up at him briefly and raised her hand to touch his.

This Wilson noticed. He stood, uncomfortable with the way they were looking at each other.

House shrugged. "I guess she gets a little frisky when she's high." Cuddy made a noise of protest.

"Don't be a jerk, House," Wilson warned, standing over them.

"She isn't going to remember." House didn't have any intentions of being a jerk anyway.

"She's in an altered mental state. She's not unconscious!"

Cuddy moaned, proving his point. "House can take me." She sat up sleepily and rubbed her eyes. "Can we have a few minutes alone?"

House tensed at the sight of Wilson's suspicious expression.

Luckily, he just laughed. "Wow. She really is stoned." He scratched his head. "I guess I'll go back to work if you got this..." he motioned to Cuddy. "See you later, Cuddy." He patted her shoulder comfortingly.

Wilson left and House suddenly felt the tension hanging in the room. She was watching him.

He didn't want to be in a room alone with her. He scooted over a bit, keeping his entire body stiff against the other side of the couch. She crawled over to him, her clothes disheveled.

He looked out the window of her office, dreading the feeling of her crawling onto his lap to cuddle.

When he felt her lips on his cheek, he turned his head. She held him to her, twisting her fingers in his hair. At first, her tongue was light and friendly against his lips, but when he opened his mouth, she attacked him. Her knees dug into the sides of his ribs, her hands moving everywhere that she could touch.

He couldn't respond right away, still in shock. She was so sad, looking for a distraction. But soon she was gasping for breaths in between kisses and nearly hitting him every time she rocked forward.

His hands slid down her back, but she wouldn't stop. It took all of his upper body strength to pin her arms down.

It felt good to breathe.

"You have to go home." He needed to take her there.

He looked back to the window. A few people were staring, but then quickly averted their eyes. House noticed Chase in particular.

It would be all over the hospital in minutes.

At least House could blame it on the drugs. "Okay..."

She was staring at something near the corner of the couch.

He took his hands off of her and saw red marks on her thighs where her fingernails had dug into her skin. She stood up, swaying, so he hurried to help her. Her knees bent weakly and she leaned on him for support. Unfortunately, House wasn't strong enough to hold her up, so he shoved her back, towards the table.

She tried to walk on her own, but ended up running into the door.

House retrieved the keys to her car, muttering sarcastically, "This is going to be fun."

* * *

Cuddy woke up in her own bed, unsure of how she got there. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and check the clock. It was 5:30. She buried her face in her hands, rubbing the sleepiness away.

She still felt a little lightheaded and sore, but she was tired of crying. Her feet touched the ground and she could stand, just a little wobbly.

She picked up her cell phone, resting on the bedside table, and dialed House's number. While it rang, she went into the kitchen and heated up the left-over coffee from the morning. Just as she was preparing to leave a message, he picked up, "Yeah?"

"I'm awake," she announed. "I'm going out."

"Why? You can't drive anywhere." His voice was strangely condescending.

"I'm fine." She rubbed her face again, sipping her coffee. With some caffeine, she'd be okay to drive.

"Not tonight. I'll be home..."

"In a few hours?" She finished for him. "I need something else."

"Watch tv. Don't go anywhere."

"No." She had to see Tritter. Had to. "You...um...I'll see you tonight."

"The case may take a little longer."

So he wasn't coming home. She had to wonder if he was only avoiding her. "That's okay." She tried not to cry, but her voice was cracking and she didn't want him to know.

"Sorry." Did she sense regret in his voice? Couldn't be.

He didn't want to see her because she was emotional and sad. House liked funny, sexy Cuddy. "I'll just..." She didn't know. But her chest tightened and she held the phone to her chest as she coughed out a sob. "Find something to do." Just the prospect of Tritter was revolting to her. She didn't know how she was going to get through it.

"I'll try to get out of here."

Excuses. He always made it home on time when there was a possibility for sex. She knew that House wasn't like that, but it just seemed like it sometimes.

She hoped that he was actually working, and not off with one of his hookers. Tritter would have a field day. "Yeah."

"Bye, Cuddy." At least he sounded like he longed for her.

"Bye. Love you." She found it difficult to tell him that she loved him. But the baby had changed all of that. She loved him for giving her a baby, among other reasons. And now they were back to square one.

She hung up, a heavy weight on her heart, and finished her coffee. She wanted House. She wanted him to stop her from going to Tritter's house and she wanted him to have an explanation for each of the hookers.

But life wasn't a fairytale. And she had to do what she had to do.

She got into her car, breathing deeply and trying to think clearly. She drove very slowly, very cautiously, checking every mirror as often as she could. She found that she didn't have trouble staying in the lines, but she reacted a second later than usual.

She made it to Tritter's house in one piece and on time. He seemed glad to see her.

She didn't say anything, just walked into his kitchen. He'd cooked dinner again.

She pointed to one of the plates that she assumed was hers. "Do you want this?"

He shook his head.

She found the trash can under the cabinet and threw it away. He watched with an expressionless face.

She walked to the living room and sat on the horrible orange couch. He sat next to her.

They waited and sat for an hour and forty minutes. Cuddy stared out the window. Tritter watched a golf tournament.

It was seven forty when he pushed her to the floor. Nudged, really. It didn't take much effort. Maybe she was weak. Maybe she didn't care. But she didn't know what she was doing. She didn't see the painting on the wall, or the scratchy carpet (though she felt the rug burns on her knees later).

She only felt the emptiness inside of her. There was supposed to be something there, and it was missing.

This time, Tritter tried to touch her. He put his hand lightly on her hair, and caught a few strands between his fingers with her movement.

She stopped and slapped his hand away, without looking at him.

He never tried again.

* * *

Cuddy showed up at Wilson's house after. It wasn't too late and she need to talk to someone. Someone who would react how she wanted them to.

She didn't call, knowing he would call House as soon as they hung up. She wanted to see House too, but she was afraid of what he would say.

Wilson opened the door and seemed relieved to see her. He invited her in, "House just called. He said you weren't home."

House must have gotten off early. It was selfless of him to check on her, especially since he hated to be around her when she was emotional. And she wasn't there. Crap. She had a lot of explaining to do. "I went to talk to Tritter."

Wilson took her coat and purse and placed them on a nearby table. "Tritter? I thought he was dropping the case," He crossed his arms and leaned against wall.

"He dropped the drug abuse charges." She stepped towards him, rubbing her arms. "This is a little unprofessional of me- but Tritter..." She didn't know the correct way to bring this up, so she just asked him, "Has House been using hookers?"

"I- I honestly don't know." Wilson's mouth hung open in surprise. "Why? Is Tritter going to...?"

"I won't let him," she said, tightening her grip on her arms. She had to remember exactly why she was going through all of this. It was getting a little lost in her head. "I made a deal with Tritter."

Wilson took a deep breath and lead her into his living room. "What kind of a deal?"

Cuddy started to sit down on his couch, but it reminded her of Tritter's couch. So she hesitated, thinking. She couldn't let Tritter ruin her life. It was only a couch.

Wilson noticed her struggling. "Is there something wrong with the couch? I promise it's clean." He smiled.

She nodded and sat down next to him, not making eye contact.

"Cuddy," he began, trying to catch her attention, "Are you doing something illegal?"

She supposed that she was going against the law. But House wasn't doing anything wrong. He didn't deserve...whatever Tritter was threatening. "I'm not sure anymore."

"Are you giving Tritter money?"

"I wish." She glanced at him for only a moment, and Wilson seemed to understand that this was serious. He pulled her into a hug, just what she wanted, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's something bad?" He asked softly.

"Yes," she replied, suddenly wishing that she hadn't done it at all. But it was too late to take it back. "House is going to kill me."

"He wouldn't do that." Wilson pulled away a little, and they turned to rest on the couch. She still leaned on him, though. "He's going to kill Tritter."

"No, he won't give in. House only wanted to prove to Tritter that he was insignificant, that House is an asshole and Tritter can't do anything about it," Now that Cuddy thought about it, House really was an asshole. But she loved him anyway, and she hated Tritter with every cell in her body. "He'll hate me because I let Tritter get away with it."

"I think we should call House and tell him where you are," Wilson suggested, reaching over her to pick up his phone.

"Okay." She sniffled.

Wilson dialed the number and House picked up right away. "Cuddy's here." He paused. "Wait." Wilson handed the phone to her.

"Hi, House." She rubbed her nose.

"What do you want?" He was angry again. This wasn't going to be a good night for her.

"Wilson said I should call and tell you where I am." She felt childish, like House was her disapproving parent and Wilson was there to mediate.

She heard him sigh into the phone. "Would've been nice an hour ago when I was at your _house_."

She felt bad about that, but she honestly thought that she'd be sleeping alone tonight. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"I told you not to drive."

"I'm fine." She held the phone to Wilson, "Tell him I'm fine."

Wilson took the phone, and chose his words carefully. "The morphine does not seem to be affecting her anymore. No." He looked to Cuddy. "Are you in pain?"

She held her arms to her abdomen. "I don't know." She supposed that she felt a little bit of an ache, but she hadn't paid attention to it for a while now.

"She doesn't know," Wilson said into the phone. Then he gave it back to her.

She didn't have any time to say something before she heard his loud voice. "You could have killed someone. You could be dead."

She was fine. She didn't want to say it again. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have given me morphine."

"Yeah. Next time, I'm just going to let you sit there in pain. Until you learn how to take proper care of yourself." His tone was short and condescending and she hated it.

She felt sick again, and held the phone to her chest. "Wilson, can you get me something?"

"What?"

She hadn't really thought about it. Just something to make the nausea go away. "Water. Pepto Bismol. Tequilla." She muttered, "Valium."

"Don't say that." Wilson used the same, short tone that House had. Somehow, his words seemed less annoyed. "How about just the water?"

"Thanks." She held the phone back to her ear.

Again, he spoke before she did. "Are you okay? Want me to come and get you?"

"Yes." She held a hand to her pounding head. "Bring some aspirin."

"I'm sure Wilson has some." And then there was a dial tone. No goodbye, no nothing.

She turned the phone off and placed it back where Wilson had picked it up from. Wilson returned, a glass of water in hand.

As soon as the liquid touched her lips, she realized she was parched. Wilson waited for her to drink the whole glass before speaking. "You're not going to see Tritter again."

"House can't go to jail." She shook her head.

"He won't. Tritter doesn't have a shot in hell at convicting him." Wilson sounded so confident and sure. Cuddy wished she could feel like that- about anything.

"He'll find something." She'd seen Tritter in action firsthand- he got what he wanted, no matter what the cost. "He'll keep terrorizing us. I have to stop him. It's not that bad, anyway," she lied.

"Cuddy, if he raped you, I swear to God..."

She stopped him before he could continue. "He didn't do that. He didn't force me to do anything." It was sweet that Wilson cared so much. She could never imagine House caring like this.

"Blackmail is force, Cuddy. If it happens again, I'm reporting it to the police. He should be the one in jail, not House." Wilson paced the room, and Cuddy watched him.

"He doesn't touch me. I'm the only one who..." Her voice trailed off. Lately, she'd been having a lot of trouble finishing her sentences.

"That's disgusting," Wilson said, the anger building in his voice. "You can't let him manipulate you."

Wilson was bringing it all back to her head, her thoughts and memories spinning around. "Stop it. Just don't think about it and it's not that bad."

"It's horrible," Wilson told her, bluntly. "And he's brain-washed you into thinking this is a good idea."

She scooted herself to the edge of the couch, and then dropped to the floor, curling into a little ball. She rested her head on her knees. "Don't think about it." She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind. "Not that bad." She wasn't thinking about anything. Her voice lowered to a murmur. "House can't go to jail. Our baby." She pressed her hand into her stomach. What she wouldn't give to fill it up with life.

But she was flat and bony. And empty.

Wilson gasped. "I forgot. Your misc-" He stopped himself from saying out loud. "That was House's baby. No wonder he's been weird. At least it proves he has actual feelings for his own children."

Cuddy's eyes perked up. House had been acting weird? She figured that it was her fault, not even considering the possibility that he actually cared.

"Are you okay?" Wilson knelt in front of her. "This is just the worst timing." He let out a breath. "Don't worry. Just stay positive. You're good at that."

She wasn't so sure. She hadn't thought of anything good since losing the baby.

"So is House just a sperm donor, or are you two 'making love'?" It seemed so ridiculous to hear House's name and 'making love' in the same sentence.

She would have told him, but she didn't feel like talking. She moved onto her side and waited for Wilson to lie down next to her. He did, and pushed her damp hair out of her face. "I'll find out later. I'm surprised House hadn't said anything."

Truthfully, she was to. But she'd asked him not to. Still, she figured that he'd at least brag to Wilson.

He rubbed her knees soothingly until his front door opened with a loud _bang! _House found them on the floor, her eyes red from the tears. "Good. You're alive. Let's go." He picked her up roughly by the arm and moved her to the doorway.

She shoved him away, causing him to stumble backwards into Wilson's wall. "Sorry, but- I can walk by myself!" He wasn't even trying to help her. Still, he had no right to grab her like that, no matter how angry he was.

"Driving under the influence of narcotics?!" He rubbed his head where it had hit the wall.

Wilson put a hand on House's shoulder. "You should listen to Cuddy."

"I don't want to hear it."

And she didn't want to tell him. She wished that she knew what he was thinking. "Wilson, House is just going to take me home."

"You have to tell him." Wilson stared at her, sternly.

"I'll talk to you later." She put her coat back on. "Please, don't..."

"House," Wilson stopped House from leaving. "You know something's wrong."

"Yeah, I know." He shrugged, "Can't do anything 'bout it."

They made a quick exit before Wilson could say anymore. Cuddy wondered if House actually knew. He had sources to a lot of information, and he was known for snooping. It probably seemed like she was cheating on him.

She held onto his arm as they walked across the sidewalk. "I wasn't-"

"I don't want to know where you went." He hooked his cane into his motorcycle, and swung his leg over the seat. "Hop on."

"Driving under the influence of narcotics?" She retorted, taking the helmet he gave to her.

He ignored her, speeding off. She had to hold on pretty tightly to feel safe, but she didn't mind. He was warm and secure and she let her fingers dance lovingly over his stomach as they rode.

She supposed that they wouldn't speak for the rest of the night. That was okay. She still didn't know what to do about Tritter, though. She still felt like she owed him something, but after talking to Wilson, she knew she couldn't go back.

They were pulling into her street when she heard the familiar police siren, followed by blinking lights.

House cursed; he didn't even need to turn around to see who it was.

Cuddy's stomach flopped and she glanced behind her. When he stepped out of the car, his identity was unmistakable.

Tritter.

* * *

A/N: I know this has nothing to do with Finding Judas. It was just the next episode with Tritter.

If you take away anything from this chapter, don't let it be that you can drive a few hours after taking morphine. Haha. Just as a disclaimer- you can't do that. Bad idea. It's unrealistic- yet convenient for this story.

Also unrealistic and convenient- dramatic miscarriages. I don't know what it feels like to have a miscarriage, so I just looked up the symptoms on the internet and exaggerated them. I think it turned out nicely, though.

Umm, Cuddy. Hopefully, I showed the thought process clearly enough, but there may be some questions. I felt like there was enough motivation for her to go back to Tritter the second time (even though she hates it), but after talking to Wilson, she realizes that it's wrong. If you can find holes in the character though, please tell me.

Otherwise, let me know what you think. The next chapter should be up a little faster (ugh I hate school) because it's exciting and fun to write. Thanks for reading!


	6. Unwell Part Three

**What Could Have Been**

Unwell Part 3

House looked in the mirror of his motorcycle and groaned. He did not want to be pulled over by Tritter again, much less with Cuddy clinging to him fo her life.

He turned his head and saw Tritter sauntering closer. He seemed to be smiling. _Fucking asshole._

Cuddy turned with him and then whipped her head back, whispering, "House, House, House..."

"Calm down," He said rather sternly, patting her hand that was resting on his stomach. "It's just Tritter." He wasn't going to get a speeding ticket and he wasn't going to jail. She didn't need to worry. Still, he felt her draw closer as Tritter approached them.

Tritter's shoes scraped against the rocks on the pavement near the motorcycle. "Gregory House and...a friend?"

"More faulty accusations?" House was careful to keep a hand on Cuddy.

"License and registration." Tritter peered into her helmet. Apparently, he didn't recognize her, though House was sure they'd met.

"Want my extra Vicodin too?" House handed the information over.

Tritter shifted his weight between his legs, seemingly more curious about Cuddy than House. "Take off that helmet."

"Don't." House told her. He wasn't sure what Tritter was up to.

Tritter pulled a notebook from his pocket and began scribbling. "She has to. I'm arresting her for prostitution."

House laughed, raising his eyes at the absurdity. "On what grounds?" He knew that Cuddy liked to tease, but she certainly wasn't a whore.

Tritter remained calm and held up a picture. It was of House, earlier that day. With Joanna. An actual prostitute.

_Oh fuck. _He had a lot of explaining to do. "That's..."

"That's not me," Cuddy finished, letting go of him to pull off her helmet.

"Lisa." Tritter said, seeming genuinely surprised, shifting his feet again. He regained his balance and smiled, "Long time, no see."

Something was going on. House could see it in his eyes. He was too interested in Cuddy.

Tritter turned back to House. "Would you like to explain to your girlfriend why you're paying a prostitute?"

"She's not my-" House stopped himself and realized that defining his and Cuddy's relationship wasn't the most important matter at hand. He felt Cuddy move behind him, and wanted to look at her. "I didn't have sex with her."

"If she doesn't orgasm, it's still sex," Tritter said with a smirk.

House felt Cuddy move again, this time more determined. He had to look back. "I didn't."

Cuddy stared at the helmet in her lap, tracing her finger over the plastic.

Tritter took a step forward, catching their attention. He held his pencil in place on the notepad, ready to copy down House's exact words. "Have you paid to have sex with her before?"

"I'm not saying anything!" He had to restrain himself from hopping off the motorcycle and getting himself arrested by smacking Tritter across the face.

"Let's go home," Cuddy's legs shook against his.

He knew she wasn't feeling well and he wanted nothing more than for Tritter to leave him alone right now. "Yeah. You done?" He asked Tritter.

"Nope." He held up a pair of handcuffs. "One of you has to come to the station."

"One of us?" Cuddy hadn't done anything! House reached behind him, but only scratched against the helmet. He wanted to feel her again, especially since Tritter was being extra unreasonable today.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, massaging.

Tritter put his notepad away, irritated. "She can come instead," he said, knowing House would be livid.

Cuddy moved off of the motorcycle. House would have stopped her, but he was a bit shocked. It was crazy to even suggest that she go to jail for him. "You're not going anywhere," he told her.

Tritter was quick to remind her, "You can make your own decisions."

"I'm not going," Cuddy said, much to House's relief. But then she lowered her voice and whispered something about a deal.

House pulled on her arm. "What deal?!" She shouldn't have even talked to him. "That's not cool, Cuddy." House could take care of Tritter without her interfering.

"You might want to stay out of this," Tritter advised, smirking just enough to throw Cuddy off balance.

They were standing too far away. Cuddy was too far away, and it was worth the pain and effort of parking the motorcycle and climbing off. He limped a couple steps over to them. "No more deals." He nodded at Cuddy, "And I'll pay you back whatever you gave him."

Tritter laughed, and then stood straight in front of Cuddy. "He's coming with me, if you don't."

"Jerk." Cuddy muttered under her breath, holding her arms strong at the sides of her body.

Tritter stared at her coldly. "You know the rules. Two hours."

"I won't let you," She said, equally as frigid.

As if House needed her to protect him. He pushed her aside. "This is ridiculous." And House was a bit of an authority on 'ridiculousness'. No one was going anywhere. "You have no evidence. We're leaving."

He started to leave, finally, and Cuddy touched his elbow to lead him back to the motorcycle. But Tritter grabbed a hold of her.

"Get the fuck off of her!" House wrapped his fingers around his cane, preparing to strike. Tritter wasn't a law enforcement officer anymore; he'd lost all of his potential for respect.

Tritter sighed, as if he regretted her choice. "Then it's going to be four hours tomorrow."

"What the fuck is with all the hours?" House hated feeling so confused, especially in front of Tritter. Obviously, they weren't telling him something. He was already grumpy, and now he had to be upset with Cuddy. She never told him anything.

"House, please don't ask questions." She clutched onto his t-shirt protectively.

It was the same thing over and over again. "Too bad. What's going on?" He asked Tritter, seeing that Cuddy wasn't giving him any answers. Tritter seemed a little too excited by the whole situation.

Cuddy ignored him. "If you don't speak to us again, I won't report you."

"I will!" House piped in.

"Shut up." She snapped at him for the first time, increasingly frustrated by the turn of the night's events.

"No." He wasn't going to take this anymore. "I'm done."

"What?!" Cuddy grabbed him.

It bothered him that he couldn't quite tell what she was thinking. But he knew she was scared, from the grip of her hands and the shakiness of her voice.

She was too scared.

House met Tritter's eyes. "What the hell did you do?" He watched Cuddy out of his peripheral vision.

Cuddy glanced at Tritter nervously, and then tightly wrapped her fingers around House's sleeve. "I'm sorry, House."

"What's new about that?" He asked angrily, not giving into the emotional baggage that she was bringing into the conversation.

"She's sorry about our deal," Tritter spat, annoyed.

Yeah. House knew. They'd already covered that. For some reason, Tritter didn't seem to like the fact that House was ignoring him. What was so special about the fucking deal anyway? "I'll pay her back."

Tritter laughed again and Cuddy cringed. "What makes you think we exchanged money? Maybe she has a rate she can give you for that particular service...."

House didn't move. _Fucking liar. _Cuddy wouldn't do that. He stared at Tritter until Cuddy broke his gaze by touching his arm. "House?"

Tritter was just trying to intimidate him- get into his head and mess with him. House couldn't let him do that.

"Surprised?" Tritter took a step forward, his eyes shining in glee. "I was too. Apparently, it doesn't take a lot to get Lisa Cuddy to her knees."

House remained still- couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was going to hit Tritter. Really going to. He imagined his fist swinging out, beating his face to a pulp. He fisted his hands tighter at his sides, refusing to look away.

"Oh God." That was Cuddy. She walked a few steps away, her back to them.

House's eyes barely fluttered. No blinking.

Tritter was talking again, saying things that House didn't want to hear. "---she'd sure be in trouble if people- well, men- found out that all they had to do was threaten you. Let's face it- combine all the men who want to hurt you with all the men who want to bang her-" he nodded at Cuddy's back and laughed, "-you'd have every heterosexual male on the planet."

"Shut up!" Cuddy whipped around, arms flailing in the air. "I'm calling the police." She was visibly jarred, but House wan't looking. He still hadn't moved his eyes.

"All my best friends?" Tritter suggested cheerfully. "Good. Tell them I said hi."

"You're just saying that," Cuddy was still standing a few yards away from the two men, who were much too close for social guidelines. "That's harrassment. That's just awful and-"

"I know." Tritter interrupted. "I'm sorry. This isn't about you." He took a step closer to her, and she took a step back. "Fine, then." He stepped back again and turned to House. "This is about you." He clasped his hands together. "So, what'll it be? Two hours with me? Or Cuddy gets another two."

_Damn it. _Tritter was expecting a reaction. A big reaction, which had definitely built itself under House's skin. He was itching to do something drastic. Something unpredictable. And Tritter was expecting a few punches to be thrown.

He couldn't stop thinking about Cuddy. Cuddy and Tritter. What the hell had happened? She was stronger than this, but lately...well, her resolve had been weakened. He figured that was partially his fault.

Just imagining the two of them together- House wanted to gouge out his own eyes and...his bottle of Vicodin was heavy in his pocket. He couldn't take them in front of Tritter though. It would only further prove his point. He couldn't let Tritter win.

So he shrugged. "Fine."

Tritter frowned briefly and House figured it was working.

"If she wants to be with you, that's fine." He checked Cuddy again.

She was standing there, tears dripping down her red face.

He wanted to stop her. She'd cried enough today.

Tritter's face drew even tighter into wrinkles. "So you don't care if I take her in?" His threat grew stronger as he moved towards her.

House convinced himself that Tritter wouldn't take her. It was against the law. "If she wants to go with you." He remained nonchalant. "But she won't let you."

"I-" Cuddy piped up, suddenly interested in what was happening. "I can't believe both of you." She shook her head. "This petty battle between the two of you- it isn't accomplishing anything."

"Cuddy," House said, hoping she'd return to him.

"Leave us alone," she told Tritter.

"He's been cheating on you with hookers," Tritter said candidly. "And you're still defending him?"

"What exactly are you evaluating here?" House demanded, pressing his cane into the ground. "My fidelity or my adherence to the law?"

"So you did sleep with the prostitute?" Tritter smiled, thinking that he'd caught House in his trap.

"No!" House needed to get Cuddy out of there before Tritter's comments made her run away from him.

Cuddy peered at him doubtfully. "Really?"

"Yeah," he admitted. For some reason, he sounded embarrassed.

"Then I don't have a choice." She surprised both of them by standing in front of Tritter, who hesitated to say anything.

"Cuddy, this is insane. Get away from there." House rolled his eyes, making sure Tritter knew it was all a joke.

But it only seemed to provoke him. Anger flashed in his eyes, and he whipped out a pair of handcuffs, fastening them around her wrists.

"Hey!" She yelled and jiggled her hands, the metal clinking together. "Get this off of me!"

House, equally angry, pulled at her wrists. "What is wrong with you?" He asked Tritter. "Take these off."

Tritter placed his hand near House's, holding the cuffs to her skin. "She wants to come with me." He looked at Cuddy. "You said that you don't have a choice. I was just reinforcing-"

"I don't want to do this!" She yelled, shaking her hands even more violently.

House ignored the stab at his heart and attempted to rip the cuffs open, knowing that he couldn't do it.

"I'll unlock her," Tritter said. "Just let go."

House held onto the tips of her fingers, and told her to "Stay still." As soon as she was free, he pulled her back against him, away from Tritter. "She didn't do anything!" He growled, partly for Tritter, partly for himself.

"Right. I guess I'll be seeing you in a few days when I arrest you," Tritter said arrogantly, putting the handcuffs back into his pocket.

"No." Cuddy scrambled in House's arms, throwing her arms around his neck so she didn't have to face Tritter.

House dragged her to the motorcycle. He didn't know what to do about Tritter, but they couldn't be there anymore. Not in the dark. Not without proper representation. And defense. He was scared of what would happen to Cuddy and he was scared of how far Tritter would to intimidate him. He climbed on the bike, in front of her. "We'll talk," House said to Tritter. "You might want a little time to think about what to demand from me." He passed the helmet to Cuddy. "And if you speak to her, you're guaranteed five kinds of a sexual harassment suit."

House sped away, as quickly as possible, leaving a satisfied Tritter behind.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry!! This is sooo late. For some reason, my last week of senior year is KICKING my ass. I tried to write whenever I could, so if it seems like several different parts just smashed together, that's why.

Hopefully next chapter will be better. Of course, it's still the same story arc. Because I resolved nothing. The next part will explain a lot, and hopefully end this storyline because I have a really cool idea for the next one. :)

Reviews would be nice. They brighten my day and give me an excuse to procrastinate!


	7. Unwell Part Four

**What Could Have Been**

Unwell Part 4

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.  
I know, right now you can't tell,  
but stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
a different side of me._

"Cuddy's gone."

It was morning and House sighed into the phone, annoyed.

"Gone?" Wilson asked. "Missing?"

House flipped through a magazine on the coffee table in front of him. "She was angry. Is she at the hospital?"

"I don't know." Wilson looked out the window of his office, hoping she'd walk by and confirm her presence. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." House could visualize Wilson pacing in the background, and it made him even more nervous. He tried to make his voice sound calmer, "She said she was gone."

"Call and apologize." It was simple and quick, but not what House wanted to hear.

"She won't pick up her phone." And House wasn't going to apologize anyway. It was her fault for making that deal with Tritter.

"Try again and come to work."

Wilson seemed especially bossy today, and House wasn't in the mood. "I think I'll take a sick day."

"Tritter's not here," Wilson ensured.

"That's not-" House stopped himself. He wasn't supposed to care about Tritter, although he was secretly relieved that the detective hadn't come immediately to PPTH with a warrant. He sighed again. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

* * *

"Wait."

This time, it was House pacing Wilson's office (as well as he could- it was more of a shuffle with his cane). "Wait for what?"

Wilson sat in his chair, hands folded on the desk like always. "Wait until she's ready to talk to you."

"When is that going to be?" He was impatient, but Cuddy wasn't at work and that scared him. She never missed work. He didn't know how badly he'd screwed up.

"I don't know," Wilson told him. "You did leave her with Tritter. Especially after what happened..."

"I didn't leave her!" House didn't want him to finish that sentence. It just reminded him how Cuddy and Tritter had actually been together, and how he didn't realize it. He thought over the past week for what seemed like the thousandth time. "Why did she tell you about him?" He thought out loud.

"She probably tried to tell you."

There was nothing out of place. She had been fine, exactly the same. Except pregnant. She'd hid it so well. But even Cuddy wasn't that perfect. It was either that, or House was losing it.

Wilson continued, "Maybe she thought you'd figure it out."

"Maybe she didn't want me to," House retorted, knowing that wasn't true.

Like a good best friend, Wilson didn't let him hide behind that excuse. "You can't honestly believe that she wanted Tritter."

House's stomach started to turn. So he stopped thinking about it. "Where do you think she went?"

Wilson leaned back in his chair. "To be optimistic, I'd say she went to visit family. It makes sense that she would want to get out of here."

But she wouldn't run away scared, House knew. Tritter's repeated threats weren't enough. Realistically, it was House that she needed to run away from. She'd lost faith without giving House time to prove that he could be there for her, but in a different way than she'd expected. He asked Wilson, half-joking, "So you don't think Tritter's got her locked up in a basement somewhere?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Someone's seen _Silence of the Lambs_ a few too many times."

Wilson was trying to lighten the conversation, and it wasn't helping. House wanted the truth. "Yeah, but it's like based on a true story. Tritter could be Buffalo Bill!"

"But he's not, House." Wilson said, sternly. "He's a police officer."

"Detective." House corrected. His title didn't indicate what he was capable of, as House had recently observed. "He thinks he's above the law!"

"So, really..." Wilson gestured towards House, "...you two are the same."

"No!" House slammed his cane into the edge of Wilson's desk. "Do you think that Tritter's deal with Cuddy is the same as me forging a few signatures to get some fucking relief?"

Wilson shook his head. "No. But Tritter doesn't see it the same way." He paused, "And I think there's a lot more going on here than just the Vicodin."

"Of course." House plopped down on the all-too-comfortable chair across from Wilson's desk. "He's pissed because I'm an ass, and he's taking it out on Cuddy."

"That's not going to happen anymore," Wilson said carefully. "There's nothing to worry about."

Wilson didn't understand. He didn't know what Cuddy was prepared to do for him, or the lengths to which Tritter would go, after being provoked by House. "I guess I should go perform as many experimental tests as I can while she's gone."

"Good idea." Wilson stood up as House pulled himself up out of the chair. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine." He answered quickly. "Why?"

Wilson grinned. "You haven't touched my breakfast." He pointed to the apple and piece of toast on his desk.

"I don't like fruit." House grabbed the toast and shoved it into his mouth.

Wilson nodded. "If you don't hear from her by the end of your shift, then..."

Then, House was going to the police station, and pummeling Tritter until he forfeited Cuddy's whereabouts.

"Technically, you can't flie a missing person's report until twenty-four hours have passed." Wilson picked up the apple on his desk, and rubbed away at a few marks. "But I think that's a little extreme for the time being. She's probably fine."

"I'm going to talk to Tritter," House announced, decidedly.

"Wait," Wilson thought for a moment. "I'll go with you at lunch."

"Now." House didn't really want Wilson tagging along, holding him back with his conscience. He wanted to yell and scream until Tritter would never even think about Cuddy again, and Wilson's logical reasoning did not support that plan.

"Now?" Wilson raised his eyebrows. "At least wait until you seem a little less crazy. She's been gone for what- an hour? She could be at the supermarket getting groceries for all we know."

"She's been gone three hours," House defended. "Tritter knows where she is." And with that, he backed away from Wilson's desk and limped out the door.

* * *

A few hours later, House was back at that same door, knocking obnoxiously against the glass. "Time to go."

Wilson looked up from his work. "She didn't call?"

"Nope," House answered as he hobbled in. "She most definitely has been kidnapped."

"Damn it." Wilson shook his head, and placed a hand thoughtfully over his mouth. "You don't really think that, do you?"

"Nah." House took his weight off his cane, and pressed down into one of the chairs across from Wilson's desk. "She just skipped work without telling anyone, and forgot to pick up her phone. But she's probably fine."

Wilson scrutinized House for what seemed like minutes. "You don't have Cuddy locked in your apartment, do you?"

"No! That's-" Stupid. Idiotic. What the hell was Wilson thinking? House stared at him, and squinted. He seemed serious, but there was just a bit of lightness in his eyes. He had to be joking. Which meant that he wasn't actually worried. "As often as I have Cuddy chained to my bed, that is not the case this time." He pictured her in that position and smiled. The happy thought was quickly wiped away by a visual of Cuddy handcuffed in a dark room, with Tritter standing over her. It only reminded him of the previous night, as she had frantically torn at the handcuffs, trying to pull them off. This time, House wasn't there to demand that Tritter unlock her. "Oh, fuck. We have to find her."

Wilson raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by House's reaction. But House didn't care anymore. He was determined to the point of recklessness.

Wilson stood up and shuffled a few papers around. "You want to go see Tritter?"

House's eyes darted across the carpet. "Yeah." He looked up. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes." Wilson reached for his coat. "Why do you care?"

House leaned back onto his cane, wrapping his fingers around the curved wood. "You seem to know a lot more about this than I do."

Wilson hesitated and sighed. "What do you know? Let's compare notes."

House shrugged, slightly frightened by the prospect that Wilson had more information than him. "I've got nothing." He leaned against the door frame in anticipation. "Do you know where she is?"

Wilson put on his coat. "I know that you need to talk to Tritter."

He made a move to leave the room, but House stopped him. "You can't let her...do that."

Wilson pursed his lips, as if it wasn't his fault. As if he had no choice. "I didn't let her do anything."

"What is that supposed to mean?" House hated this, getting emotional. Forceful. He needed to keep up the indifferent act if he wasn't going to get hurt. "I don't care where she is, but I don't want you lying around here feeling guilty because she's not safe!"

Wilson gritted his teeth and kept his eyes trained to the carpet, muttering, "...self-serving...arrogant..." He shuffled his feet and then looked up. "You're the one who's feeling guilty- and don't try to hide it because I can feel it seeping out of you, it's infectious- and too stubborn to admit it. You're making excuses when Cuddy could be hurt."

"Why don't you do something about it?" House yelled, almost certain that Wilson was bluffing. Wilson wouldn't just sit there, working, if Cuddy was in actual danger. Not unless Tritter had tricked him into something...something that was actually intended to teach House a lesson.

"House..." Wilson hung his head. "I can't do anything about Tritter. He's not interested in me. _You _need to talk to him."

"You knew all day that he had her." House couldn't believe it- that Wilson was enough of a goody-two-shoes to betray him and Cuddy. He couldn't figure out why Wilson had waited so long to tell him. "And you let him take her."

Wilson held up his hands in defense. "I told you. I didn't let him do anything."

"She went willing?" It was so messed up that even _House _couldn't understand.

"You wouldn't take care of Tritter. You kept ignoring him," Wilson told him with a candid frown.

House felt the anger bubble up in this throat and decided to excuse himself. "I'm leaving. By myself."

* * *

House limped briskly though the police station unnoticed. His scruffy hair and muscled upper body blended in with the other police officers. He circled around the desks, finally spotting Tritter's nameplate on the door of an office in the back. The door was open, revealing Tritter as he spoke on the phone. Thankfully, his back was to House, allowing House to properly sneak in.

He leaned against the door silently. He only hoped that Tritter wouldn't yell too loud when he saw him.

Tritter jumped in surprise, but only gasped a little. He threw the phone down on the desk. "House! You fucking..." He restrained himself from yelling. "What are you doing here?

House was fond of amushes and showed his preference with a smirk at Tritter's fluster. Then, he moved to close the door.

A hand shot out, stopping him. Wilson slid through the door before shutting it himself.

House glared at him, and Wilson sighed. "Pretend I'm not here," he said to both House and Tritter. He sat down in a chair in the corner of Tritter's office. "Continue."

House chose to ignore him, and focused on a confused Tritter. He approached him, and Tritter scurried behind his desk, reaching for the phone and dialing an extension.

House unplugged the cord. "Come on, Tritter. I thought you wanted to talk. So you can arrest me," he mocked in a teasing tone.

Tritter set the phone back down, trying to remain calm and in control. "I'm not speaking to you without another law enforcement officer present-"

House plopped down on a chair in front of Tritter. "Fine." He lifted his good leg and rested it on Tritter's desk. "I need to file a missing person's report anyway."

Tritter groaned, "I suppose you're playing another game. Okay, House-" He pretended to be interested, "-why do you need to file a missing person's report?"

Equally sarcastic, House gasped, "It's for my soul." He held a horrified face for a moment, and then broke into his usual, indifferent expression. "Not really. It's Cuddy."

"What?" Tritter shook his head in disbelief.

House shrugged, picking at his fingers. "She's missing. And after her insistence on martyrdom last night..."

Tritter, obviously shaken, took a few moments to respond. "I...I'm not involved."

"Okay," House, tired of screwing around, took his leg off the table and crossed his arms. "She came looking for you." He crinkled his nose pensively. "She wanted to 'seal the deal'. Where is she?"

"House," Tritter tapped a pencil on his desk. "I haven't seen Lisa since last night. And what you _thought _happened..."

"Can't play the crazy card this time. As valid as that may be..." House poked a thumb towards Wilson, "...he's willing to testify for my sanity and your illegal behavior towards Lisa Cuddy."

Tritter dropped the pencil, and sat up, straightening the objects on his desk. "Well, it seems that you have this all planned out."

"Not really." House shrugged, "But if you could tell us where you're keeping her, we'd like to return her to her proper place. In a stuffy office in Princeton-Plainsbourough Teaching Hospital."

"That's an impressive mouthful," Tritter remarked. "Unfortunately, I can't help you. Unless you'd like to confess to sleeping with the prostitutes."

"You're holding her ransom? For a confession?" House wanted to growl at him. Suddenly, Tritter had all the power in their relationship and it was endlessly frustrating. House couldn't confess- he hadn't slept with most of them- and it was too late to let Tritter win. Not when he'd come this far. He needed to scare Tritter enough that he'd release Cuddy and never bother them again. Unfortunately, for Tritter, it seemed to be an "either-or" kind of deal.

Still, it couldn't hurt to try. House brought a hand up to pull at the facial hair on his chin. "Let go of Cuddy and never bother us again." He raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "Please?"

Tritter groaned. "I told you. I don't know where she is." He leaned forward, almost whispering. "And I have a responsiblity to stop you from hurting others."

"Sexual predators can't be superheroes!" House said rather loudly, causing Tritter to flinch in his seat.

Tritter's reaction was inspiring. House smiled wickedly and stood up with the help of his cane. "I suppose there's nothing I can do."

Wilson reached to stop him. "Wait a minute, House."

"Are you giving up?" Tritter asked, not really believing House's words.

"I'm giving up on being polite to assholes," House replied. He opened the door and yelled to the entire police station. "Hey! Listen up!" He whistled and Tritter jumped out of his seat.

House barely got the words "sexual assault" out of his mouth before Tritter pulled him back in and shut the door.

"What the fuck are you doing? Do you know how serious that is, accusing me of something like that?" Tritter wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Uhhh..." House looked to the ceiling, "As serious as rape?"

"No!" Tritter slammed his hand into a nearby file cabinet to punctuate his point. "_Not rape_."

A knock came at the door, and it opened, revealing a sharply dressed young man with a buzz cut. "Everything all right in here, detective?"

"Just a new lead in the prostitution ring," Tritter said quickly.

The man eyed House curiously. "Do you need any assistance?"

"No-" Tritter started.

"Actually, I do need some assistance." House grinned and shook the man's hand. "I inquired of Detective Tritter's assistance in finding my boss, Lisa Cuddy, but he has been less than helpful."

Tritter almost let out a sigh of relief, but then House contintued, "Seeing as he has been involved in forced sexual negotiations with her."

"What?" The man barked.

"Chief-" Tritter addressed him and House's eyes widened. "I did no such thing."

"You did not..." the chief made a motion with his hand, "...have sex with this man's friend?"

"Boss," House corrected as Tritter shook his head. "And I believe it was more of a 'Bill Clinton' situation. She pulled a 'Monica'-"

"I think he understands," Wilson piped up.

The chief did not even seem to realize that Wilson was there. "Who are you?"

Wilson stood. "I am Lisa Cuddy's..." he hesitated, "boyfriend."

This response surprised House, and he found a little humor in it. He laughed loudly.

Tritter's face turned red. "They are lying."

The chief stood still, scratching his chin. "You never engaged in sexual behavior with- let me get this straight-" he pointed to House, "this man's boss-" he pointed to Wilson, "-and this man's girlfriend?"

House smiled. "He catches on quickly."

Tritter chose not to respond to that question. "House is Lisa's boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend," he said, glaring at House.

The chief threw his hands in the air. "I don't care whose fucking house it was at, or if he's an ex-boyfriend or not!"

"I meant-" Tritter tried to explain.

"Answer the question." The chief stared at Tritter coldly.

"Yes," Tritter admitted. "We were together. Sexually," he added. "But nothing was forced and I would prefer to brief you on this case before you pass judgement."

"Case?!" The chief exploded into a lecture on the moral faults of getting personally involved with a case.

House was enjoying himself, watching Tritter squirm. It would never be enough payment for what he did to Cuddy, though.

"I've connected him to a number of prostitutes!" Tritter defended, "He has a background of drug abuse and incompliant behavior..."

The chief walked from one end of the room to the other, rubbing his forehead. "You can't arrest him now that you've slept with his boss."

House shot him a smile and a thumbs-up, but he didn't notice.

The chief stopped pacing. "Where's the girl?"

"Cuddy?" House spoke. "I don't know. Probably locked in Tritter's basement, Buffalo-Bill style."

"He's very sarcastic," Tritter told his boss. "I don't know where she is."

"Oh, do you keep her here?" House pointed to a nearby closed door, which he assumed was the closet. "That's a little kinky, if you ask me."

"She's not in my closet!" Tritter said as the chief opened the door, revealing a few neatly hung jackets and a pair of boots.

The chief grabbed Tritter roughly by the soldier. "Do you swear, to you God, station, and country, that you do not know where this woman is?"

"I swear," Tritter said calmly.

"LIAR!" House yelled, his voice screeching over every noise. Suddenly it went quiet on the outside of the door. "He knows. She's waiting for him at his house. That's the deal." He looked to Wilson, who offered no confirmation.

The chief took House by the arm (which he promptly yanked away). "All this talk of 'deals' and 'negotiations' is making me uneasy. Maybe you and your boss and her surprisingly uninterested boyfriend could forget about everything, and I'll speak to the detective and _make sure _he could concretely connect you to these prostitutes."

"For someone who gets nervous at the mention of 'negotiations', that certainly sounds a lot like a deal," House remarked.

"House..." Wilson touched his arm. "I think you've done your part. We've gotten what we came for."

"No! Stupid." He planted his feet firmly in the ground and pressed on his cane. "I'm not leaving until Tritter tells us what he's done with the most well-endowed administrator at Princeton-Plainsbourough."

Wilson leaned to the chief and spoke in a hushed voice. "Can you tell me with complete confidence, that we will never hear from Detective Tritter again?"

The chief looked to Tritter, who hesitated.

It was enough for the chief to launch into another rant. "Think of the investigations! And the fines! We could be shut down. Everyone will lose their jobs..."

Tritter held up a hand. "No need to go further. I agree to the terms." He stared at House. "It's a stalemate, which neither of us will be happy with, but we need in order to survive."

"How philosophical." House fluttered his eyelashes. "Whatever makes you feel better for losing. Anyway, no deal. I don't know where Cuddy is."

"You will never see or talk to Lisa Cuddy ever again," Wilson told Tritter, who nodded. "Then, we'll leave."

"No!" House banged his cane on the floor. "I know I'm not invisible. Let's recap: Not leaving." He stuck his tongue out at Tritter. "You lose."

"You're a child," Tritter accused, disguted. "And if you can tell me where your girlfriend is, then I'll believe I've been defeat."ed

"Come on, House." Wilson tugged on his chirt.

"She left you," Tritter said, "because you're a bad person. You've lost her, which really is a shame, because I know what a _great _person she can be." He flashed a toothy smile, and earned an elbow in the gut from his chief.

The chief spoke sternly, "No need to provoke anyone."

"Time to go." Wilson insisted.

House shoved him backwards. "We can't leave without her. You don't even care..."

He stopped himself for a minute. Something clicked in his head and he knew.

Tritter beat him to the verbal realization. "Because he knows where she is." House watched him struggle in restraint. "You fucking lied. Just to destroy me. Just to protect your good-for-nothing loser friend."

"I didn't lie," Wilson assured the chief. "She really was in danger with him."

Tritter stepped back, and slammed his fist against the desk several times.

House, equally angry that Wilson had tricked him, resisted the urge to pummel Wilson with his cane.

"Calm down," the chief ordered, turning to Wilson. "Everything's in line?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Not to promote tensions between both parties, but in the event that Detective Tritter does make contact with Lisa, I will have the station shut down, and you both will be locked up for the rest of your life." He grabbed House, this time with much greater force and conviction, "Have a good day."

They both exited the room, barely hearing the chief say, "Noted."

The large room outside Tritter's office was still silent, most likely in hopeful eavesdrop. House mulled over the past conversation and allowed himself to be dragged out of the station. He couldn't have missed it. He was sure that Tritter had Cuddy, doing awful, dirty things to her. He was so angry, and now it was directed at Wilson. He knew that Wilson liked to play with his mind, but Wilson had never been cruel. And playing with the subject of Cuddy- it was unacceptable.

They got to the car, and House didn't want to go in. He didn't want to see Wilson at all.

"Sorry," Wilson sighed. "It was necessary, whether you believe that or not."

House touched the handle of the car door. It was black and warmed from the afternoon sun. "Take me to Cuddy and I might think about yelling at you for being a traitor."

"Fine." Wilson unlocked the car and sat down on the driver's seat.

House moved slowly and sat down next to him. He buckled his seat belt.

"We all lied," Wilson said, actually making the situation worse for House. "Tritter bluffed about the hooker's testimony. You lied about your feelings for Cuddy. Cuddy lied...about a lot of things."

This perked House's interest, but he was too exhausted to ask about or discuss such 'things'.

"Just drive."

* * *

She was sleeping when House opened the door to her hotel room. Dark hair tumbled over the white sheets. He couldn't see her face, but he recoginzed the particular shape of bodily lumps under the blankets.

That, and the confirmation of her purse and coat flung over a chair.

House stepped into the room, Wilson close behind. House spun around. "In effort to make you feel unappreciated, you should know that you're not needed anymore."

"Really?" Wilson pushed past him to get a peek at her. "Because I thought I'd stay."

"Don't blame me when you scratch your eyeballs out at the sight of me and Cuddy having sex," House warned, preferring to be alone with her. He wanted to talk and have sex, and he couldn't do that as effectively with Wilson lurking around to judge him.

"You're not having sex with Cuddy." Wilson crossed his arms definitively.

"Wanna bet?" House was drawing closer to the bedroom, unable to stay away. He hadn't seen her in hours, but the uncertainty of her well-being had made it a difficult dry spell. He planned on seducing her right after she answered a few of his questions.

Wilson rolled his eyes before gazing at Cuddy cautiously. He remained farther away, though, in the kitchen area of the large master suite. "I'll stay in here. If I hear anything..."

"...you'll come in and pull her off of me," House finished bitterly, ducking into the bedroom. There was a small sliding door, but House figured Wilson wouldn't let him close it. Just a little bit of privacy...

She was just waking up to the sound of their voices and movement.

He swung his cane at the front of the bed, making a clanking noise.

"You're here." Her tired voice reflected a hint of surprise. "Where's Wilson?"

House ignored her question and threw himself down on the bed right next to her. She moved away, nearly falling of the edge.

"It's okay," he said, yanking her back to him. "No need to be scared. I'm not Tritter," he groaned the name ominously. "Oh, by the way, thanks for ditching me to deal with him."

She turned on her side, so she didn't have to face House. " I had to." She paused, and he felt her take a deep breath. "How'd it go?"

She felt so warm, so comforting, and he couldn't help but be completely distracted by her femininity. He placed his hand on the skin of her hip, where her shirt had ridden up. He realized that he couldn't remember what she asked, so he kept talking, "That was a clever trick that you and Wilson pulled."

"I knew you'd be mad." She grabbed his hand and held it to her chest, so his forearm fit snugly between her breasts. "But I have to know. Did you talk to Tritter? What did he say?"

He didn't say anything, letting her suffocating touch enchant him. He buried his face deep into her neck and she squrimed away, smacking him. "Don't fall off," he warned as he moved back a little.

She seemed content with the space he had offered. "I'm not going back to Princeton until Tritter promises to leave us alone."

He pulled at her shoulder and she moved to face him. "So, you left me because you were scared. It wasn't all a part of your 'master' plan."

"It became part of the plan." She ran a hand through her hair and yawned. "It was Wilson's idea. You should thank him."

"For lying to me?"

"He convinced me that you would talk to Tritter." Cuddy propped herself up on her elbow. "What happened?"

"I told you I would take care of Tritter," House said, staring at her cleavage.

"But you didn't!" She tried to adjust her tank-top so it revealed less, but House couldn't take his eyes off of her. "Last night..."

"Was a show for Tritter." He pulled the sheet up so she could cover herself and feel more comfortable. He made himself look at her face. Her forehead was crinkled in worry. "I was indifferent and he lost his bargaining chip. It didn't mean anything."

"You let him handcuff me." Cuddy pressed two fingers into her temple, as if that would relieve the pressure inside. "I can't even think..." She closed her eyes momentarily. "He could do it again. He's going to threaten me with pictures of hookers and-"

"He won't." House inched forward to bring them closer, almost nose-to-nose on her pillow. "He said that he wouldn't speak to us ever again. If he does, Wilson's getting him fired and thrown in jail."

"Wilson?" Cuddy relaxed the muscles in her face, but her eyes remained wide with curiosity. "You let Wilson do it?"

"I did it!" House enforced, his breath blasting in her face. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "I would have talked to Tritter whether you were missing or not. You didn't have to run."

"No," Cuddy twisted a curl of her hair on her finger and tucked it behind her ear. "You would have put it off and I'd still be stuck with Tritter. God knows what he would have made me do next."

"Hey!" He was tired of her constant demand for pity. "We can both agree that Tritter is a microbe of bacteria on the scum of the earth. But you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to."

"I wouldn't have touched Tritter if I thought you would stop me!" She yelled at him and panted, her cheeks flushed.

Their bodies were so close. He could just grab her and press her against him, already hot and sweaty. He could feel her breathe, and then he'd kiss her.

But he didn't. Because she still thought that it wasn't killing him to think about her and Tritter. "I would have been fine," he said, hushed. "You would have been fine."

"You would be in jail!" She crossed her arms and made the worried face again.

"I'm not in jail." He touched her cheek, attempting to smooth some of the wrinkles away.

She looked down and muttered something about a "high price."

He knew she was right, and that she would be better off without him. He rolled on to his back and groaned. "We're not accomplishing anything. Our arguments are chasing each other around in little circles." He snuck a hand under the covers to touch her leg. "Let's just forget what happened and have sex." It would be much more productive.

"No," She turned to mirror him. "I can't forget that you don't care about me."

House groaned again, this time very loudly and into his hands.

Wilson popped his head throught the doorway. "How's the seduction going?"

House!" Cuddy whined, sitting up away from House. "I'm sorry. We won't be much longer."

"Yes, we will." House made a production of throwing his torso over Cuddy's. "Just leave and come back in a couple of hours."

He made a pouty face and Cuddy rested her hand on his head. "Just a few more minutes," she told Wilson.

"...until I feel her up," House finished as he rubbed her hip, following the curve to her ass.

"I won't leave," Wilson said, carrying on the conversation as if House wasn't there.

Cuddy smiled at him. "Thanks, Wilson."

"James," Wilson stared at the door frame awkwardly, "You can call me James."

"Right," Cuddy nodded. "Just a habit from work."

Wilson gave her a little smile and left.

"What was that?!" House asked, loud enough for Wilson to hear. "Have you two been bonding?"

Cuddy stood up and hesitantly shut the door. She sat back down cross-legged on the bed. "Wilson asked me out on a date."

"What?!" House couldn't contain himself. As much as he tried to play indifferent, he couldn't ignore the surprise of Wilson and Cuddy being together, romantically.

"He did, and I can't see you anymore." She bit her lip and looked down.

"'See'? Does that mean 'have sex with'?" They weren't doing much else anyway.

She shook her head and let her eyes trail up to the ceiling. "I don't know." She laughed. "I'm breaking up with you, and that's what you care about?"

It fed right into the facade he was keeping up. He shrugged, for extra emphasis. "I never thought we were in a relationship." He let the cover slip a little. "You _were_ just pregnant with my baby yesterday, so maybe it's- I don't know- shocking. But you're needy and vulnerable, and I shouldn't be surprised that Wilson is jumping all over that."

"I haven't officially told him anything yet. I was waiting to see you." He noticed her eyes tearing up. "I guess I'm still a little overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?" He wasn't going to take part in making her feel better anymore. She wasn't his to comfort. "How can you be overwhelmed? You're a hospital administrator who deals with a million things every minute. This should be a vacation for you."

"I'm still cramping a little," she admitted, pressing a hand into her abdomen.

He told himself not to touch her, that she didn't want him anymore. He'd been enough of an ass already. It couldn't get any worse. "You'll get over it. Especially with Super Wilson- I mean, Robert- by your side." He flashed her a sarcastic smile and the corners of her mouth perked up slightly.

"I'm going to miss you." She leaned in and hugged him.

Soon, he felt the wetness of tears on his t-shirt and cursed the hormones running though her body. She was going to be fine. Everything was going to stay the same because she and Wilson weren't going to last. They didn't fit like she did with House. He wasn't dying and she had no reason to be sobbing all over him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You cheated on me!" She said, angrily. She leaned back and he could see that her eyes were even redder than before. "With hookers!"

"You cheated on me with Tritter!" He said, knowing it was a low shot that he would end up regretting. "At least I didn't have sex with the hookers."

She stood up and threw a pillow at his face. "I can't believe you. I'm glad I chose Wilson!" With that, she opened the door and left, storming into the other room.

He stared at the pillow, and then pressed his face into it, murmuring, "Seduction: aborted."

* * *

A/N: Hey, just wanted to get this up really fast because it's been so long. (Sorry, by the way.) It's a really long chapter, so hopefully that made up for it.

That last section was a little icky, but it was just meant to transition into the next storyline- Cuddy and Wilson pretending to date to make House jealous (I think the episode was House Training). I don't want to give any more away but it should be kind of obvious where that is going with all the hints I've been dropping!

It might be a while before the next chapter is up because I'm planning on updating both of my other House stories before this one. (Yes, I'm breathing the life back into one of them.) But that depends on the reaction I get from this chapter, so...review!! :)

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this arc!

---I fixed the name issue! Can't believe that escaped me! I just always call him Wilson...


	8. Better Than Me Part Un

**Thanks for reviewing!!!**

**What Could Have Been**

Better Than Me (Part 1)

_I think you can do much better than me  
after all the lies that I made you believe.  
Guilt kicks in and I start to see  
the edge of the bed where your nightgown used to be._

"How was your date?" House twirled his cane around between his fingers as Cuddy shuffled through papers on her desk.

"Good." She glanced up at him, and then avoided eye-contact. "You talk to Wilson?"

"Yep." He was hopelessly infatuated, as always. "Did you get laid?"

She hunched over her desk even farther. "If you talked to Wilson, you should already know the answer to that question."

His twirling came dangerously close to hitting the side of her desk. "I just wanted to see if you would lie and say you hadn't."

It took her two seconds to realize he was joking. "House. We had fun. Wilson was polite. We kissed, but did not have sex."

"You kissed Wilson?!" He shook his cane, scrunching up his face in disgust. "Those lips have touched Cutthroat Bitch in places..." He paused. It took him five seconds to realize she was joking. "Oh. You didn't kiss him on the first date? We kissed on the first date."

"And it took us over a decade to have sex." Cuddy shrugged, stacking a few of her papers into neat piles. "So, I'm hoping my relationship with Wilson isn't _exactly _like ours."

"So you want to have sex with Wilson in two decades?" House asked, hopefully arrogant. He leaned forward against Cuddy's desk.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him, and lowered her voice into a sultry growl. "I'd like to take Wilson right here on this desk as soon as possible."

"You're disgusting," He spat. Just the thought of them together- it was out of place and gross. Mindblowing sex was House and Cuddy's thing. Wilson was too gentle. He'd never be able to give Cuddy an orgasm like House could. And House was going to make sure she knew this. "You know you would have to come in contact with Wilson's penis, right?"

"Don't be like that." She straightened and shrugged. "He wants to take it slow."

House laughed loudly. "That's what he says." He winked. "Next thing you know, you're married and being blown off for a drug-addicted cripple."

"You don't believe him?" Cuddy pushed her arms into her sides, further enhancing her cleavage.

Bitch. She was doing that on purpose. House knew she must still be horny for him.

"You think if I asked him to fuck me, _pretty please_, right now- he would decline?" She shook her head at him.

"He wouldn't pass up the opportunity, but he would be hesitant at your word choice. 'Fuck'? It's out of character." He wandered around to her side of the desk, slowly enough that she didn't notice.

"What if I asked him to make love to me?" She asked, tilting her head up as House exerted his height over her. "Would he hesitate then?"

"James Wilson would fuck a banana if it wanted to 'make love'." House rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "True story."

"I'll have to ask him about it." Cuddy nodded, her eyes still staring hard at House. "Sounds like a fun time."

"He couldn't walk straight for a week." House shot back as he leaned in, unable to resist. He kissed her, brushing his lips over hers, then pulling them into his mouth to suck on them. She let him, until he pulled back.

"One warning." She backed up, looking down. Her fingers came up to her mouth to rub her lips, and pinch them. "You get one warning, and then I'm telling Wilson."

"Tattletale," he taunted her as he hurried out of her office with emotion bottling up in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"Cuddy wants to have sex with you," He told Wilson over lunch. "On her desk."

"That's very kinky of her to come up with that all by herself," Wilson replied, unfazed. "We will discuss it."

"You discuss sex?" House was having a hard time believing all of this. Wilson and Cuddy. Cuddy and Wilson. Sex. It wasn't right. "Funny thing, Cuddy and I were always too busy to discuss sex. Because we were having it."

"Not anymore," Wilson said smugly. "Get used to the fact that soon, I'm going to be the one who's rocking her world."

"Rocking her world?" House stole a cookie off of Wilson's tray. "Are you nineteen years old and in a bad porno?"

"You're jealous." Wilson stated, in his knowing way. "And defensive. I can understand- you were sleeping with her."

"Yeah! What about man law?" House pretended to be upset. "I thought we were brothers for _life_!"

"After you shoved her into Tritter's arms, I thought she was fair game." Wilson stabbed a piece of lettuce and stuck it in his mouth.

"I didn't-" House stopped himself, knowing that they had discussed this many times before and it always ended up with him angry enough to drive a screw through Tritter's head (without anesthesia). "Fine." He crossed his arms and watched Wilson eat for a full two minutes. "This isn't going to work."

"Really?" Wilson squinted in disbelief. "Because I think it's kind of perfect."

House threw the cookie back down on Wilson's tray and left.

* * *

Wilson and Cuddy met at 3:00 in the stairwell besides pediatrics.

"You talk to House?" He asked.

"Yeah," she smiled. "You?"

"Yep." Wilson sighed. "Date on Friday?"

"Sounds good." They barely touched as they passed each other, heading in different directions.

* * *

Friday night, Cuddy wore a silky maroon dress, and Wilson picked her up. They went to a nice, popular Italian restaurant.

And, of course, House was there.

"You two are shockingly predictable." House was dressed nicely too, as if he had intended on being a part of their date.

Cuddy took a deep breath and smiled at him. "House." She held her black clutch tightly to her stomach.

Wilson nodded at him and laughed. "We thought you might show. Unfortunately..." He placed a hand on Cuddy back, and lead her forward. "...we only have a reservation for two." He turned to the host. "Wilson."

House held up a finger as the host searched for his name.

"Actually, it says a reservation for three." The host double-checked, running her finger across the paper. "Yep. Wilson for three at seven o'clock."

"Wonderful," Wilson muttered sarcastically. "Okay, then." He nodded at the waitress and shot House a look of surrender.

"No." Cuddy smacked him with her purse. "He doesn't have to come." She rested her hand on her hip and frowned at House. "House, you may not come with us to dinner."

He stared down at her, and then looked at Wilson. "Does she really think I'm just going to leave?" He laughed, and Cuddy's grip on her purse tightened.

"Come on," Wilson tugged on Cuddy's arm. "He won't go until he realizes how _boring _it is."

"Okay." Cuddy followed Wilson to their table. Before she sat down, she felt a hand on the back of her neck.

"I like your hair," House said, seemingly sincere, as he ran his fingers over the intricate braid she'd made.

"Thank you," she said, in somewhat of a compromise. She reached up to check for flyaways, and their hands met.

They both sat down quickly and glanced over the menu. Wilson ordered a bottle of wine for them all.

"Thanks Wilson!" House gushed.

"Yeah." Wilson ignored House. He nudged Cuddy from across the table and she looked up from her menu. "How was work?"

"Awful." House picked at a hangnail. "The boss rode my ass _all day_."

Wilson groaned, and Cuddy remained indifferent, returning her eyes to the menu. "Go ahead," she told him.

Wilson turned his head towards House. "If you're going to be here, you have to be quiet. Or at least let her talk once in a while."

House didn't say anything and Cuddy began talking again. "Work was fine. I actually got a lot done today." She smiled at Wilson momentarily before looking at the menu again. "How was your day?"

"It was okay." Wilson found it hard to hold a conversation while House was right there, watching.

House swirled his glass of water, the ice cubes clinking. "Why would you bother asking that? You don't actually care how her day was. You just ask so you don't have to feel guilty about feeling her up on the ride home. It's part of the lie that they call a relationship."

Wilson stuttered, flustered, "That's not why-"

"Don't pretend that you don't think with your penis. Every guy does." House whispered, "And guess what? I think they're figuring that out!"

"I don't..." Wilson started.

"Don't worry about it," Cuddy told him.

"Yeah, she likes it!" House said, increduously.

"That's enough," she said sharply.

"I have a question." House raised his hand. "Why did you guys let me sit in on your date?"

"Because you won't leave," Wilson answered.

"Just ignore him," Cuddy said, tapping her fingers on the table.

"It's kind of hard to do that." Wilson flipped a page of the menu.

"I think..." House began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "...that you two aren't exactly comfortable with each other yet, and that you don't actually want to be with each other. You'd _rather _be with me. And you brain makes up this reasoning that I'm too difficult or I won't leave, but really, you want me here."

Cuddy put her menu down, but kept her gaze on the table. "Wow. That is the most selfish, narcissistic logic I've ever heard."

"Look at me!" House grabbed her arm, and she lifted her eyes to him. "You're sad because I'm right."

The waitress came to their table, brushing her hair back with her hand. "Sorry for the wait! It's crazy tonight. Are you guys ready to order?" She pulled a pencil out of her apron.

"I'll have the lobster." House tossed her his menu.

Wilson ordered the chicken parmesean and Cuddy asked for the manicotti.

"Chicken parmesean?" House asked after the waitress left. "That's a woman's dish."

"And lobster is manly?" Wilson growled the word 'manly' for effect.

"It is if you tear the meat out with your teeth." House made a ripping motion with his bared teeth. "Cuddy likes real men."

"I like going on dates," Cuddy replied.

"We didn't need them." He stared at her like he could just pull her to him right there and kiss her in front of everyone. "Everything is fake. You're trying to be someone else."

Cuddy rubbed her forehead. "I'm so tired of this."

"Dating?" He asked hopefully. His hand found her knee under the table.

She looked to the ceiling as if praying, but she didn't push his hand away. "No. You. Destroying every shot I have at happiness."

"I got you pregnant," He reminded her. "You were happy."

"I can get you pregnant," Wilson offered.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "It's not that." She looked between the both of them, distressed. "I just want to find someone who loves me. That's important right now. Not the baby thing. But I want that, later."

House's hand shifted slightly on her knee. "You loved me."

"House..." Wilson warned.

House shrugged him off. "You don't even know enough to have an opinion about this. Sorry, if you're feeling like a third-wheel, but you stole my girlfriend."

"You never called me your girlfriend before." She pushed her hand off of her. "I feel sorry for you."

House took a sip of his wine. "Feel sorry because I haven't got laid in over a week?"

"We're not going to leave you," she explained. "You won't be alone. Wilson and I need some time to ourselves, and this is going to be a weird, and awkward..." she glanced at Wilson, "...transition. So, you can stay tonight. But things are going to change."

"Nope," House downed the rest of his glass of wine and stood up. "Why don't you guys spend the evening together? Let me know how that goes. I guarantee you'll be talking about me the entire time."

They watched him as he hobbled out of the restaurant.

* * *

They met the next day at a park.

"House has a case?" Wilson asked.

"Yep." Cuddy nodded. "Pretty interesting too. Unidentified stomach worm."

"I'm sure he'll have a lot to say about that...whenever he starts talking to me again." Wilson shifted his weight and stared into the sky.

"He'll forgive you," Cuddy reassured. "He's going to be a little pissed, but it'll all work out."

"Yeah." He shook his head. "Hey- did you check your car?"

"Bugged," she replied, unsurprised.

"He got mine too. I left it there." He leaned against the wooden structure of the bathrooms at the park.

Cuddy thought for a moment. "He's suspicious, but I don't think he's figured it out."

"Me neither. We'd know, wouldn't we?"

"Yeah." She pulled at the sleeves of her shirt. "You did a really good job last night. It takes a lot to fool House." Wilson did know him better than anyone else, but nothing escaped House. They were being obsessively careful, keeping their cover for a full twenty-four hours until they found a safe place and time. Even at dinner last night, they'd faked an entire date, just in case he'd hid microphones on their clothes or on the table. And they kissed goodnight properly, watching for House sneaking around the bushes. "We certainly put a lot of effort into it. Passively ignoring him was a great idea."

He laughed. "You were good too. I actually thought you were furious with him."

"I am." She twisted around, her mind conflicted.

"You love him?" He asked.

"Always," She sighed and smiled. "He'll come around, though. Won't he?"

"Definitely." Wilson ran his finger along the stone wall. "It's tearing him apart- seeing us together. He'll break soon."

Cuddy paused and leaned against the wall, mirroring him. "I hate hurting him. But he wasn't..."

"Taking you seriously," Wilson finished.

She wrinkled her nose. "Do you think we'll have to have sex?"

"I don't know." Wilson raised his eyebrows at the suggestion. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure he hasn't bugged our bedrooms yet."

Cuddy suddenly became wary of her bathroom. House surely wouldn't place hidden cameras in there, especially after all these years. He wasn't that much of a pervert. "Obviously, he has too much time on his hands. I need to give him more clinic hours."

"He won't go." Wilson said with a smile.

"He's really obssessive, isn't he?" She loved that about him. "He can't stop thinking about this."

Wilson shrugged. "I wouldn't know. He hasn't said anything to me all day."

Cuddy bit her lip. "I'm really sorry. I didn't want you to have to betray him like this. It was just a game to make him jealous."

"He doesn't take jealousy well, does he?" Wilson remarked. "Well, he needs to stop acting like a child in your relationship and I'm glad to help."

"We wouldn't have made it out of the Tritter incident, with the miscarriage and everything," she knew, thinking out loud. "We need time to think, apart. But, God, I miss him."

Wilson wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Me too. He's so damned stubborn."

"Yeah," she leaned into him. "I just hope he loves me enough to endure his."

He rubbed her arm. "Well, that's what we're figuring out. Something good will come of this."

* * *

House stood thirty feet away from them, behind a tree. He watched them embrace.

They had to run and hide to a cold park, away from him, just so they could be alone. They didn't deserve that.

Two people- House's favorite friends. The kindest people he knew. Maybe they could be together. It didn't make sense to House, but it was what they wanted.

And he wasn't going to stop them anymore.

* * *

A/N: Sooo, new section.

This could really drag on, and that's why it's broken up into little smidgets.

I don't think it's as detailed or well-written as the other sections, but it's more fun and light-hearted. It will be easy to write, which means I can update faster.

Ideally, next chapter will resolve this. (Knowing me it'll be 3-4 parts.) Depends on how much fun I'm having. Suggestions are welcome. I'm for sure going to have House 'test' them. Haha.

Hope you liked it!


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